An Unlocking Spell
by hmionegrangr
Summary: When Hermione's trunk gets accidentally mistaken and swapped with another student's trunk, it's just bloody typical that it belongs to the boy who despises her and confuses her more than anyone. Beginning in fifth year, this is a dramione fic that vaguely follows canon up to OotP. Multi-chap. WIP.
1. Alohomora

The worst day ever had begun when she crept up the stairs to the Gryffindor girl's dormitories after everyone else had gone to bed, and opened her trunk to find it wasn't her bloody trunk.

She had scrambled up the stairs, a bit woozy after the fire whiskey she had been sipping on throughout the night, up to the room she shared with 4 other girls who were already conked out. Looking around at her friends, they weren't exactly sleeping beauties. After they had all passed out, she found them all with their makeup smeared across their faces either due to drunken crying or other slightly more promiscuous activities, no doubt also fuelled by alcohol. They all looked like hot messes.

She had crept up the stairs quietly, having taken her shoes off in the common room so that when her delicate feet hopped up the stairs, they did not make the usual clunking sound which would make a deep echo and wake everyone in Gryffindor tower. Upon entering her room, she had stubbed her toe on Parvati's bed and has to bite her lip to swallow the "For Godric's bloody sake!" that was desperately trying to escape her mouth.

She then limped over to her bed to find her trunk next to her bed and in her tired and slightly tipsy stupor did not recognise that this was not in fact her trunk. It was dark, strong, old wood and the lid of the trunk was covered in leather. The leather was a dark, expensive black with silver metalwork and intricately detailed patterns carved into the metal.

Flicking her wand, she whispered the passcode she had locked her trunk with yesterday evening when she had finished packing her clothes and books for Hogwarts. Then she had gone to bed, in preparation for the long train journey from Platform 9 ¾ which she would embark on tomorrow. Like she had done yesterday, all she wanted to do now was sleep. There was nothing wrong with the traditional Gryffindor party, held in the Common Room on the first night of term to welcome the new students, as well as everyone else, back to Hogwarts. As far as she knew, every house had a party, and Gryffindor's were always rumoured to be the best. Or at least the most raucous.

But it was times like these, when she was exhausted, had not really enjoyed the party as much as everyone else and was slightly tipsy, that she just wished she could manage to cast a simple bloody unlocking spell.

Flicking her wand again she whispered "Yule Ball", smiling nostalgically, having chosen her password wistfully yesterday. She often thought about the Yule Ball, how her and Krum had danced, how she had wanted Ron to ask her so badly and he hadn't and how Draco kept pausing to stare at her for just a second too long as he scanned the room.

That evening, she had been one of the last left at the Ball, and when Krum had excused himself as he would have to be up for early Quidditch training, she had stayed. Perhaps it was because she was afraid of going back to the Common Room and facing her two best friends who she had scolded like a mother. Or perhaps it was him.

* * *

The crowd had been dying down, leaving a few stragglers for the last song. She had moved over to the food table and turned to see the band announcing they would be playing one last song, a slow dance. The last few partiers were deterred and even Neville and Ginny hadn't wanted to stay for the last song, all deciding that the situation might be too awkward and romantic for their liking. "Imagine my parents faces when I tell them that I, Hermione Granger, was the last one standing at a party" she chuckled to herself…"They're going to think wizarding parties are awfully dull."

She had continued to snack on the frozen bites at the table with the sound of the rock group behind her singing a ballad for the empty dance floor.

"I wouldn't be so sure of that Granger" Draco growled. "Just because everyone else seems to be unable to appreciate the traditions of these events, does not mean I don't."

"Oh, you sound like a pretentious twat Malfoy, one that is just regurgitating what his daddy has told him" sighed Hermione, rolling her eyes.

His cold eyes sharpened: she saw him losing control of himself in those eyes. Their grey storm raged, but he clenched his fist and remained composed. Breathing heavily under the labour of not snapping at her he looked so powerful to her. Like he could break her.

"Would you dance with me?" he offered, snapping at her, trying to restrain the animosity he felt towards her. He held out his hand like a Pureblood was taught, when he was taught etiquette and dancing and how to play chess (the wizarding kind), and looked at her with pure loathing. The jutted hand was in fact a challenge, he knew she wouldn't accept his offer. Nonetheless he would have fulfilled his 'duty' to be the gentleman. After having satisfied his need to follow traditions and then knowing he would be able to blame the failure of his efforts on this uncooperative Mudblood, he thought he could slink away and continue with his life as usual.

Only Hermione was clever. A brilliantly, clever witch who knew that was what he wanted. He wanted more than anyone to slink away from this conversation, to avoid any interaction with her because she knew that he knew that if he did not, he may start to think of her as a someone… and that could be dangerous in his world where there were only two sides, and any blurring of the lines between these sides would be unsafe. But his own stupid traditions, the same which had degraded her in his mind, also led to him having to offer her a dance.

He challenged her. She gritted her teeth and accepted.

"Why thankyou, Draco" she sing-songed_. He would hate her using his first name. Ha! _"I would love to!"

A look of confusion transformed into sheer horror on his face, his forehead scrunching and his mouth warping into a straight line. He almost bared his teeth but seemed to remember he was too civilised for that.

Her warm hand draped itself into his cold firm grip, as he led her onto the dance floor. A quarter of the song was already over when he took her waist with one palm and her little hand in the other and began to swirl her, spin her, twist her. His resting hand on her waist made her blush and they were both overly aware of the minimal space left between them due to the fact that the dance demanded it.

But seeing his stony expression throughout, she not only felt the weight of his hand but the weight of the war…the weight of his prejudices and the weight of the knowledge that she would ever be accepted by his kind; Purebloods. Though his technique was flawless and he never stood on her toes like Ron always did when she had helped him practice, she found herself unhappy. He was not enjoying himself so neither was she.

But if he was unhappy, shouldn't she be happy with this small victory over him? After all she had done this to irritate him, though she must say she was surprised that he had called her bluff. She felt a dizzying coolness, knowing that all he was thinking about was her "foul" blood status, as he called it.

In the dimly lit hall, their dance was coming to an end. Her tendrils of hair had come loose from the intricate hairstyle which she had finally let Lavender Brown pull and tug her bushy hair into, and Draco watched them unfurl knowing from years of admiring them that they could not be controlled by anyone. Much like the owner  
of those curls, they were loosening, falling apart before his eyes as he saw her smile waver.

She was looking at him expectantly. What the fuck did she want? She didn't expect him to talk to her while they danced did she? "I'm not bloody Gilderoy Lockhart" he thought to himself.

But then she surprised him, as he saw the famous Gryffindor joyfulness, which he so famously hated, return to her eyes. Just when he though he had knocked her down this witch decided to perk back up again. Fan-fucking-tastic.

But she did not speak as he expected her to. She stayed quiet. This time she was challenging him, daring him to talk and taunting him for not having the courage to speak up. _Typical, always yapping on about bloody bravery and courage._

"What are you looking at then?" he snarled, still spinning her slowly across the dance floor.

"Just thinking about the irony that the same warped views and traditions that define me as a Mudblood-" she paused and frowned as he flinched at the word. Normally she wouldn't have noticed as he retained his mask of composure, but being pressed up against him made her acutely aware of the small shudder he felt when she said the word.

She repeated, "The same traditions that call me a Mudblood are also telling you that you have to dance with one. The irony is rather entertaining."

"Very" he snapped back at her, clearly trying to keep conversation to a minimum.

"Sad really how much conventions control your life" she muttered, realising she had wished for a long time that she could be friends with Malfoy. The fact that he was the most intelligent wizard in his classes had made Hermione secretly want to know him more, but upon realising his hatred for her kind she had quickly hidden that desire.

She honestly thought that he was controlled by his family's views? He certainly was not as warped as his father and did not worship the ground Voldemort stood on. He knew what Voldemort really was: a murderer, but he also understood that the intelligent place to be in the war was on this murderers side. But how dare Granger even say that!

"I asked you because I wanted to," he bellowed. "I am not controlled by anyone."

The fury in his eyes fired up again and she believed him.

Then they both realised his confession...

He wanted to dance with her.

She was the exception to the rule.

They both looked shiftily at their feet, over the others shoulder, even gazed up at the ceiling and pretended to marvel at the night sky. He knew this was uninteresting in comparison to what was standing right in front of him but he kept his jaw locked and his head high.

He would not break.

The song had ended and she had wandered back to her dormitory, wondering whether she had concocted a potion incorrectly and had inhaled too many of the rotten-smelling fumes.

The next day she concluded that she had clearly been delusional.

* * *

Pulling herself back to reality, she thwacked her wand a couple of times as though a quick tap would fix the problem. She spent the next 5 minutes furiously whispering "Yule Ball" in different voices, pitches and even accents. After failing miserably at an Irish accent she sighed and resorted to trying a beginners level spell: "Alohomora"

"Bloody typical" she barked to herself as the lock clicked and the lid flipped open, "the simplest bloody spell."

She began rummaging through the items in the trunk, desperately trying to find her pyjamas so that she could struggle into bed and forget her incompetence.

Then it finally dawned on her alcohol debilitated mind.

This wasn't her case…

She nearly peed her pants when she realised what she would have to do next. Having faced a fair number of monstrous creatures in her time at Hogwarts, she knew that this would be the most perilous adventure of all. She would take the fangs of the three headed dog, a herd of centaurs or a dragon over the adversary she would now have to face. She dreaded this even more with every step she took down the stairs from her dormitory knowing that to wake this creature from their slumber was very risky, and at this time of night she would surely be executed.

McGonagall.

She had to face McGonagall.

She could just imagine the livid look on her face, the curlers in her hair pulling her face tight and causing the glare she would shoot Hermione to be twice as cutting, as well as the dressing gown she would wear as formidably as her teaching robes.

Hermione was so screwed.

A sleep deprived McGonagall was as exhausting as dealing with moaning Myrtle. But she had to do it… unless she wanted to sleep in the clothes she was wearing now and then wear them tomorrow as well, which surely wouldn't go down well with the rest of the students who would be wearing uniform and not muggle clothes.

Godric help her.

She trudged across the Common Room which was now covered in cups and glass bottles, confetti and random belongings which people would claim in the morning and stopped when she heard a raised voice booming outside the portrait hole, clearly irate and arguing with 'The Fat Lady'. She heard the intruder thumping the portrait and thinking it was just a drunk Gryffindor who was too drunk to remember the new password, she crossed the room and opened the entrance.

It was in fact a drunk student.

Not the kind she expected though, as she saw Malfoy standing outside the Gryffindor common room, breathing heavily from his heavy blows to the portrait. He leaned against the doorway and regained his composure, straightening his back and sharpening his glare.

_Had he come here to see her?_ She glanced down to the sleeves of his dark shirt which he had rolled up, exposing his forearms and thought of how safe she had felt in his strong grip.

As he opened his mouth to begin shouting again she interrupted with a hiss, "Draco! Shut the hell up!"

He had stopped thumping the door and stepped back, or perhaps you would say toppled back in his drunk state.

Now she just looked at him, revelling in the fact that he seemed weaker like this. Without the barriers he put up normally, it was quite fascinating to watch him. A flash of confusion wiped across his face and was quickly smothered by a look of resignation.

Well, his reaction could have been worse, she supposed.

He was ambivalent to her, unsure of whether to taunt her or to smirk playfully. He knew what he wanted to do, but he also knew what he should do.

Fortunately, Draco's lack of aggression towards her meant that she could get to the bottom of why this prat had found Gryffindor Tower. As quickly as possible.

_Why was he here? Did he think about her at all? No don't be silly Hermione._

Draco still looked shocked that it was her that answered his ravings from outside the portrait hole. He clearly didn't expect her, so clearly he didn't come looking for her specifically.

Being drunk, she realised she was swaying.

_Or was that him that was swaying?_

_Oh crap it was definitely him. _

Suddenly, as if hit by a tripping jinx, he lurched forward and fell onto her. She was suddenly very aware of how close his body was. His breathe tickled her ear and she shuddered as his lips grazed her neck as he bowed his head further into her.

Burying his face in her massively curly hair, unable to face the shame he felt, he tried to ignore the nagging prejudices which he had recently begun to question. He felt her squirm slightly and reach her arms under his to grip his back as he kissed her neck.

She attracted him, like a moth to a beautifully damaging flame.

That's what this was.

She was damaging him.

Damaging the fragile ideas and assumptions which worked as the foundations of all of his even more fragile prejudices. Everything he was taught by his parents, she was making him unlearn.

_Why hadn't he just waited until he was sober?_


	2. The Games Begin

**Author's Notes: To be honest I'm not as happy with this chapter as the last, but read on and review/fave if you enjoyed reading it!**

**Also at the bottom I will do some 'fun facts' about some of the things I have made up/ introduced in this chapter.**

**Disclaimer: Pretty obvious that JKR hasn't written this.**

* * *

Draco furled his hands around her shoulders. He meant to push her away immediately but she was pressing her body to him greedily. Instead he held her there, tensed as he tried to force his rigid chest away from hers.

But it didn't want to move.

It taunted him as his own senses gave way to a lusty haze.

_She's a mudblood. You can't kiss her-you aren't allowed to kiss her!_

_You won't._

_Mudblood, mudblood, mudblood! Remember it._

_She's a mudblood._

Bitterly, he remembered his family's loyalty to the Dark Lord.

He almost snarled remembering it, although he could not be sure whether at her blood status or at his family's ideas.

He had snarled at his confusion.

He did not often feel confused, it was an unfamiliar and unwelcome sensation.

Hermione was the source of this confusion, he was sure. Here he was, standing in the portrait hole to Gryffindor Tower, wanting to kiss this witch and he couldn't.

Why did he want something which was inferior?

He had managed to ignore the fact that she was the most talented witch in their classes, choosing not to question his father's theory that the teachers were more sympathetic towards muggle-borns as they were so obviously unable to do magic. At the time his father had said "It's cruel really, misleading those who are unworthy, to believe they will ever be truly capable of magic."

"But Hermione can do magic?" Draco had thought. As much as Draco hated to admit it, she definitely belonged in the Wizarding world, being the only one to best him in all his classes.

He couldn't just ignore that kind of evidence.

But surely the tales his mother used to tell him about the ugliness of Mudbloods had to be true? How their blood turns to mud because of its inability to handle the power that they have 'stolen'. Their mortal bodies apparently corrupt due to their unnatural exposure to magic.

Hermione definitely wasn't ugly. Of all things to fall back on to prop up his beliefs, the children's tales his mother told him were not the strongest evidence of Hermione being lesser.

He knew she was striking, there was no use denying it to himself. He would never tell her of course, but he admitted this to himself often. Often enough to make his mind question whether there was any truth behind his mother's scary stories, and by extension whether there was any truth behind the whole idea of impure blood.

So far he had not found much truth, which made his head hurt.

It was as though everything he knew was being jarred, and seemed warped.

Somehow, wrong.

Her hair wriggled around her head in all directions, fraying outwards in a beautiful golden crown of wispy ringlets. The tendrils whirled outwards and these long spirals thinned towards the end of the strands of hair. They framed her olive toned face perfectly and short baby curls often fell into her large eyelash-framed eyes.

Oh in the name of the Bloody Baron, he needed to get away.

Her mere presence was too intoxicating; he didn't know what he would do if this went any further.

It was his instinct for self-preservation that led him to act out…

He laughed spitefully in her face and pushed her a step back, though he did not act forcefully enough for his liking.

_Get her away from you quickly._ The best thing Draco could think to do was to hurt her pride so that she didn't try to edge back towards him like he wanted her to.

"As if Granger. I swear to Salazar you really are as desperate as everyone says you are" he snarled half-heartedly.

Taken aback, her face fell.

Just as quickly, she patted down the curls he had disturbed by nuzzling into her and brushed off the creases in her shirt.

She straightened herself up piece by piece and worked methodically to readjust herself. After she straightened her back she finally reworked her face into a blank canvas, showing neither empathy nor passion, and certainly not even a flicker of hurt.

It didn't take long for her to get over that one Malfoy noted, secretly annoyed that she was not more affected by his brutal rejection.

"So what did you come here for then?"

She interrupted his thoughts. He then realised why he was even at her door.

How did he get here? His thoughts had just seemed to lead him to her, but then he remembered why he had been so frantic to wake anyone he could find in the Gryffindor Common Room.

* * *

He remembered that he had been storming from the Dungeons where just a few minutes ago he had been in the Slytherin Houses Common Room. After attending the formal dinner party which was always held in the Common Room on the first day of term, where he had glided between small talk and people drinking their beverages, he had stood to leave.

He had had quite enough of this.

During previous years he would be the last to leave. He had actually enjoyed the company of his housemates, he had socialised and climbed his way up the social ladder during these events. Not that he needed to, he now realised.

His achievement of popularity was nothing to do with people liking him.

That was just the way of life in Slytherin.

People got close to you because they admired you or they wanted your protection. They liked your blood status and the prestige which came with being a friend of the Malfoy boy.

It was just last year that he realised how false everyone was. The end of his fourth year had been catastrophic for his beliefs about society… about everything.

One dance with Hermione had him questioning his the societal structures he had known all his life.

It was pathetic.

He was pathetic.

But apparently so were the views he used to hold, and still had to pretend to agree with. _They were so pathetic._

At the end of last year he got lost in this train of thought. He had spiralled into an existential crisis and distanced himself from his friends. He had told them it was stress from work and they had not realised it was a lie; that's when he realised that the world he was living in was fake. It was all false. He had fake friends, fake beliefs, fake blood status.

Worse was that he had to lie. He had to act as though he was still as mislead as all of his other housemates. He had to pretend that he hadn't worked it out.

But he had. Hiding his true identity, as a…Blood Traitor, because yes he was a Blood Traitor, meant denying himself.

Hiding away like this was horrible. It wasn't brave.

But, he reminded himself that, he wasn't sorted into Gryffindor for a reason.

But tonight he was sick of pretending to admire and to esteem these people who were so mislead. He sneered at the fact they had been deceived. But he hadn't been.

After being so invested in an idea for years it really weighed down on him that he didn't have the same trusting naivety in his blood status, in Voldemort, as the rest of the Slytherin's. He didn't have their freedom, their 'knowledge' that they were innately superior.

He slunk up the stairs, hoping that in his fifth year he would manage to cover up where his true loyalties lay. He would be sly and cunning… after all, he was a Slytherin.

Swinging the door to his dormitory wide and strolling into his room, he was relieved that Crabbe and Goyle weren't up from the party yet.

He had grown fond of them during his first years, and even now when their unreasonable prejudices against muggle-borns and blood traitors clouded their judgements, he still called them friends. After all, he had always known they were dullards who were only capable of following orders. Their unfaltering loyalty to him, however misplaced, was still endearing to him.

It was just such a shame, thought Malfoy. This whole war was such a shame.

"Who's fucking case is this?" he growled, looking down at the chestnut coloured wood which had a tag on it. Draco took a quick glance round the room, scanning for his case elsewhere but when he didn't find it he knelt down and flipped the name label in his fingers.

It read:

'Fifth year Gryffindor girls' dormitories.'

Did this look like the Gryffindor dormitories? Which idiot apparated this to the wrong place?

So if this was the case of a Gryffindor, did that mean they had his case?

Being a very private person the very idea that someone else had his trunk was alarming enough, and the fact he had not charmed a passcode onto his luggage this year made him panic further. Someone from his rival house had his trunk and all of his belongings. Fuck.

He looked down at the trunk and withdrew his wand, "Alohomora" he whispered while grinding his teeth. No success.

He wracked his brains for other locking spells they might have learnt. There was the Passcode Locking Spell but they weren't taught the counter-spell for that as it encouraged "invasions of privacy" and "theft" according to the School Board, and therefore it was not on the syllabus. However, over the summer his father had given him some extra reading as he always did. Draco had completed some reading from his father's library and he vaguely remembered a more advanced unlocking spell than Alohomora.

"Recludaliquid" he muttered while swinging his wand in an intricate pattern he only vaguely remembered. Draco released a sigh of relief as the trunk opened with a click

Not wanting to invade the persons privacy (realising that to do so would be hypocritical of him) and also not being particularly interested in the belongings of this random faceless Gryffindor, he looked for any item which would quickly identify this person.

Apparently he was in no such luck.

So he looked through the top layer of clothes, looking for a Quidditch jersey with a name on it perhaps or any other recognisable item of clothing.

Again, no luck there.

Then he saw a pretty silver hair clamp, decorated in a flowering pattern and scattered with small white jewels. It was beautifully ornate, and he knew exactly who owned it.

Hermione Granger.

He remembered her always pulling her sleeves up in their Potions lessons together and then twisting her hair up and clamping it with this hair clip, indicating she meant business. He had stared at it a lot last term before moving his attention to the ringlets which fell loosely outside of her hair-do and the way her nose wrinkled as she read her copy of 'Advanced Potion Making'.

This person was no longer faceless. This person was the one thing that confused Malfoy most, so curiosity got the better of him and he began to unpack the case slowly, making sure not to mess anything up while searching for evidence of her abnormality and of her unnaturalness. The results of his search were inconclusive: he found a weird plastic cuboid with numbered buttons and a screen (definitely abnormal muggle stuff) but nothing else.

He did accidentally brush his hand over her underwear without intending to and jumped back as though stung, finally becoming fully aware of the extreme invasion of privacy that he was committing. As well as this he was startled by the fact the underwear was all black and red… and lacy. He didn't take Granger for a lacy knickers kind of girl and the thought appealed to him. Draco began to repack the top layer of Hermione's belongings hastily, jumping away from this thought as though suddenly realising the implications of knowing such intimate details about Granger.

The moment he slammed the lid shut on the trunk, Crabbe and Goyle walked into the dorms and collapsed on their beds. The party was clearly over then if even Crabbe and Goyle had stopped getting drunk.

"What's that?" Goyle asked.

"It's a Gryffindor's trunk." Draco answered apathetically.

"Why's it here?"

"It wasn't delivered to the right dormitories by the House elves probably"

"Where's your trunk then?" questioned Goyle again.

"Take a wild guess Goyle" muttered an exasperated Draco.

"They've swapped them" sneered Crabbe, tilting his chin upwards, proud for having come to the conclusion faster than Goyle.

"Well done boys" Draco sighed, "now I have to go and get mine back."

Telling Crabbe and Goyle that he wasn't going to put up with the inefficiency of Slughorn and instead would be going straight to the crux of the problem seemed to satisfy their questions about why he would even want to go near the Gryffindor Common Room. It seemed like a reasonable excuse.

So he lounged around with them waiting for Slughorn to leave the party and descend to his living quarters. When he heard the last few stragglers leave the party, he reminded Crabbe and Goyle that he would be back late, not to wait up for him and to say he had gone to the infirmary if anyone asked as he was going to be out after curfew.

With strict instructions even they could not go wrong…

He had levitated the trunk, grabbed a large bottle of Superior Red wine and headed off. Taking swigs from the flagon, he moved through the secret passageways of the school, choosing to stick to the darker areas of the castle in the hopes that Mrs Norris would not catch him and then alert Filch.

He finally found the Gryffindor portrait hole and took the last sip of his beverage, discarding the bottle nonchalantly over his shoulder and hearing the smash of the glass on the floor further down the corridor.

How had he finished a whole bottle to himself? "I suppose everything being fucked up can do that to a guy" he thought angrily.

_Merlin, this trip to Gryffindor was not a good idea when not sober._ Draco abruptly turned back down the corridor levitating the trunk with him, away from the Common Room entrance.

What was he doing? He set down the case and paused.

He had come all this way just to get his stuff and that's what he was going to do.

Forgetting Hermione's trunk halfway back down the corridor he walked up to the portrait with renewed furiousness and began to beat his fists against the portrait.

"Intruder! Intruder!" the Fat Lady began screaming, but he soon calmed her down when he explained that he was actually trying to get someone to answer, and he wasn't interested in entering the Common Room.

Like a bird who had had her feathers ruffled, she settled herself down and retorted "Don't hit my canvas or you will be reported for being out of bed after lights out."

Draco must have looked more disappointed than he realised as the woman in the portrait sighed and whispered, "Don't tell anyone I let you do this, or they'll all be wanting to hit and slam the door… But go on then, hit the frame if you must"

Draco gave her a gallant smile which he had found got him quite far with women over the years, apologised for earlier and then continued to whack the frame of the portrait to wake someone up.

And that's when the portrait swung open violently to reveal a furious, raging, wild-eyed Hermione.

And that's when he lost all control.

* * *

Hermione was looking at him from the portrait, and he then realised she was waiting for an answer.

What was he here for again?

Her. He was here for her. Wasn't that obvious?

He had known the whole journey here that he was coming to see her.

Normally he would have been fine to have waited for Slughorn to sort out his switched case. He wouldn't have gone out of his way to run an errand. He was used to being served, so it's not as though he had wanted to save anyone any trouble.

It had been for her.

He had just pulled her into an embrace and nuzzled comfortably into her.

He had wanted to get a glimpse of her when her bag was swapped with his.

He didn't expect her to be the last one left in the Common Room. He really should have expected it though, after she was the last one left at the Yule Ball. She had decided to make a habit of it apparently.

She repeated, more harshly this time, "What are you doing here?"

"I have a trunk which I need to swap for mine" demanded Draco.

Hermione's eyes widened as she saw him levitate the case which he had left out of her view further down the corridor. There was a brief moment when it seemed to dawn on her that he hadn't come for just her, he had come for his trunk. She had read into the situation too much and had completely humiliated herself by allowing him to get close to her.

Feeling the prick of oncoming tears in her eyes, she swallowed and nodded. If she had spoken her voice may have cracked so she quickly turned to fetch the trunk from her room, swiftly moving across the Common Room while trying to keep her composure.

"No invitation to come inside? How very unfriendly of you…" Draco pressed.

He stepped through the portrait hole without that invitation, and slunk over to sit back on a nearby couch. She continued up to the stairs to her dormitory afterhalting at the sound of his voice.

Draco again interrupted her attempt at escaping him again; "How about you take your case up with you, it'll save you a lot of time".

The patronising advice and the way he was so nonchalant about what had just happened was really testing Hermione's patience. She turned back to see that self-satisfied look on his face and wanted to scream.

With a deft flick of her wand, she lifted her case to move with her.

She strode up the stairs, missing every other step in order to reach the sanctuary that was her room faster. Rushing in, she flew full speed towards her bed and spent the next few minutes breathing raggedly and trying to slow the beating of her heart. Curled into the foetal position, she felt so nauseous and was sure that she wouldn't be able to look him in the eye again.

He had just wanted to swap his trunk with hers.

She was so stupid.

_Wait a second…_

_How had he known the trunk was hers? _

_That's what he had said right? _

She had put a locking charm on it but she didn't doubt about Draco's ability to unlock such a simple charm. Nonetheless, nothing in her trunk really identified her. She had half a trunk of books which could distinguish Hermione due to her studiousness, but it could just as easily have been her fellow roommates.

_He knew it was her case…how had he worked that out?_

And then it hit her.

After having realised that the case was hers, he could have just gone to Slughorn like how she had been going to McGonagall but instead he had chosen to come directly to her.

A smug grin found itself on her face as she had an epiphany.

_Malfoy wanted to see her as much as she wanted to see him_.

She walked the door and stood and the top of the stairs looking down at Malfoy who was leaning against the wall of the staircase. Confident and cocky about the fact she had seemed so disorientated and meek previously, his expression changed as she stayed at the top of the stairs and levitated his trunk down.

He had sensed the shift in power that had occurred during the few minutes she had been thinking in her room, and looking at her smirk from the bottom step, he felt as though he was left out of some sort of private joke or realisation.

He didn't like it.

He had just tried to trick her into thinking she was going after him and that her feelings were unreciprocated, but she knew… and now she was willing to play his little game because ultimately she knew she would win.

Triumphantly she murmured, "You can show yourself out. Have a good night, _Draco_".

She then sauntered back into her room, closing the door softly behind her and leaving a speechless, spellbound boy at the foot of her stairs. 

* * *

**Thank you for taking the time to read this! I realise this chapter was a lot of waffle but I'm just laying the foundations for what is to come.**

**FUN FACTS:**

**1) 'Recludaliquid' is a counter-curse for a locking spell. I came up with the word using the Latin words for 'unlock' and 'anything' and merging them together.**

**2) The appearance of Draco's faithful Slytherin's, Crabbe and Goyle, is quite important to me. I know they had some horrible prejudices but it is important to remember they were just children who followed what they were taught by their parents. That's what is so tragic about the war, it's that the teens are all involved and most of the Slytherin's are just fighting their parent's battles.**

**3) The idea that Narcissa Malfoy told Draco stories about ugly mudblood's stems back to something I learnt ages ago about the Nazi's publishing anti-semetic childrens stories which portrayed Jewish people as ugly, thieving etc. Prejudice is prejudice, and the discrimination and persecution of mudblood's occuring in Harry Potter alludes to the Nazi's frequently, so I wanted to make that link in this fic. **

**4) The "methodical" way Hermione fixes her hair and clothes after Draco messed them up and rejected her was difficult to describe and I think it came off quite clunky. However I included this as I wanted to refer to Hermione's ruthlessness (this time we see her discard her feelings quite ruthlessly and replace it with a stony face) because it is her biggest character flaw and needed to be included in my depiction of her.**

**Again thanks! You're all my favourite pudding cups, and if you wanted to read more of this fic, don't worry another chapter will be on it's way within the next week!**


	3. Muggle Studies

**Author's Notes: Had a lot of fun writing this, and I love a good love-hate relationship. So don't expect this to get fluffy anytime soon. **

**Fun facts will be at the bottom again and please review to let me know if you're liking this?**

**Disclaimer: If I was JKR I would be in the Bahamas right now, not writing fanfic.**

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"Two weeks into term and you're already picking on me! Is this really fair Peeves!" Hermione shrieked as she ran along the corridor, holding her books above her head as a torrent of chalk pieces rained down on her. With her textbooks raised as a protective shield, she sprinted towards her classroom door into the classroom trying to get away. Spinning herself inside the door she took a deep breath as she had escaped Peeves but now realised she would have to apologise for being late, thanks to that bloody poltergeist.

This morning Hermione's roommates had left without her. They offered to wait but she had wanted to walk down to breakfast a little later, because that was when he usually came down to breakfast. It didn't fit in with her usual schedule at all but she found she had enjoyed sleeping in more and more recently.

Clearly she had been enjoying it a little too much as she had overslept, and came down to breakfast to find there were only a few Slytherin's left in the Great Hall. There was only 10 minutes left of breakfast and then classes would start. The emptiness of the hall wouldn't be anything unusual, yet there were no teachers supervising at the staff table and there were so few students that she began wondering whether her watch was wrong and she really was extremely late.

Confused, she glanced over at the group of Slytherins gathered at their table and saw that Malfoy had also come down very late and was sitting by himself, not wanting to associate with any of his younger housemates. They didn't seem too keen to interact with him either as he gave off a very hostile aura, which put most people off trying to befriend him immediately. Hermione smiled knowingly. It was all for show, to maintain whatever reputation he had to uphold for his family.

She caught his eye and there was a second where he looked into hers, and responded; almost broke into a smirk at catching her looking. Then his eyes darted back down, realising he couldn't be cocky, or even act flattered and confident about her attention, because his only reaction to her should be to hate her, to despise her and to sneer at her. It had been two weeks now and Malfoy had still failed to acknowledge her.

But times like these when she saw his glances reassured her that she wasn't imagining things; just when she was doubtful there was anything between Draco and her at all, she caught him looking. It was a small gesture, but they both knew what sharing a glance meant: _I'm still interested_.

That's how she knew she was winning.

She was now stumbling into her Muggle Studies classroom and shouting a curse at Peeves turned to give an apology for her tardiness. Then she realised that the classroom was empty. Apparently everyone was late, including her teacher. Or maybe she had been panicking in the hall and didn't actually need to run?

Everyone had probably finished their breakfast and then gone and collected their books from their Common Room's rather than carrying them down to breakfast like Hermione had done knowing she wouldn't have time to collect them later. She stalked over to her seat, thumping her textbooks down, and waited.

_Bloody brilliant_. She was already having a bad morning and her (ridiculously boring) Muggle Studies teacher hadn't even entered the class room yet. She could only see today getting worse as Gryffindor had these lessons with Slytherin and tensions were running high between the two houses, with Gryffindor being made up of muggle-borns and muggle-born sympathisers, and the Slytherin's siding with the Death Eaters and Voldemort.

Most Slytherins didn't bother showing up to Muggle Studies. But those who did made sure that Gryffindor's who showed a special interest or appreciation for the subject would experience a nasty curse which would often leave those hexed in a catatonic state. Even Madame Pomfrey had struggled to cure some students.

Apparently she was early, so she began unpacking her satchel and preparing herself for this long lesson, which she really didn't need to attend but loved all the same. It was like experiencing home. Professor Burbage however had asked her to be a teacher's assistant in her lessons, helping to explain to those from Wizarding families how the muggle world worked. She got extra credit, so she had elected to take the class.

Swinging the door open in a regal manner, Draco sauntered in, obviously not even considering apologising for his lateness as Hermione had been going to. Looking around the room, he was unaffected by the fact the rest of the class wasn't there, probably assuming he was on time.

Looking around the room, his eyes narrowed as he saw that Hermione was the only other student in the room. She saw his shoulders stiffen…but then he moved to his desk on the other side of the classroom and sat down a couple of rows behind her, carrying himself with confidence. She hated how he had made it look so easy for him to just ignore her.

Aiming to follow his example she turned her eyes to the front of the classroom, concentrating on anything but him.

_Eyes to the front, don't you dare give him the satisfaction of looking at him. _

She couldn't help it though, it was like the boy was magnetic. She glanced back over her shoulder and he caught the movement, and looked up with a smirk. So he would acknowledge her when it was just the two of them?

Typical, what a git… and by looking back at Malfoy she realised she had given him a small victory over her. Shooting him a scathing glare, she turned to the front and sat rigidly waiting for her classmates.

She couldn't feel his eyes on the back of her head, he was obviously refusing to look at her, being the "filthy Mudblood" that she was.

She wasn't turning back again.

He had well and truly cocked up with her if she took him smiling at her the wrong way. Typical Granger though, she was incredibly rational but allergic to the full spectrum of human emotion. Then again Malfoy couldn't really talk… but at least he read the signs right. He admitted to himself he liked her and he thought she liked him.

His problem was that he had to ignore his feelings. Granger on the other hand was still having difficulties coming to terms with hers. So much for the bravery of Gryffindors; Hermione could hardly face her emotions here privately let alone publically.

That was another thing he was thankful for. Just like him, he was pretty sure she wasn't keen to let anyone know about this secret association they had, whatever it was. Everyone would think he had slipped her some Amortentia and she wasn't willing to be scrutinised by her friends. He wasn't worth that to her.

Neither of them were looking at each other, fixing their eyes on anything they could find around the classroom. They were each taunting the other by not giving in to the pull they both felt to look to each other.

They had reached a stalemate.

Hermione checked her watch regularly, every minute she glanced down and still after 10 minutes no one had shown up. Where were her other classmates? More importantly, where was her teacher? It was so unlike Professor Burbage to be late. She would wait another few minutes and then leave.

As it was, she was relishing the tension saturating the air between her and Draco.

This was a dangerous game they were playing.

They both knew it, but stayed seated and waited for the other to break.

Draco broke first. Although he would never call it 'breaking'. He simply wanted to diffuse the tension and get a rise out of her. Making her angry would make it easier to stay away from her as then she would definitely hex him if he went near her. The threat of a hex by Hermione would definitely be a deterrent.

He broke first: "Clearly the study of your muggles has bored the rest of the class as much as me, and in the case of your fellow Gryffindors we can only hope it bored them to death"

"Then why are you here if you are so uninterested?" Hermione retorted. She didn't know whether she was asking about the class or herself? Neither did he, but he suspected she was asking him why that night outside the Common Room happened if he was so "bored".

Draco blatantly ignored any deeper meaning to the question and responded saying "Muggle Studies are compulsory for all Purebloods and just like you Granger, I like to keep my grades high. Besides, someone had to come and take notes for the other Slytherins and I got stuck with the short straw."

That was the closest thing to a compliment she had ever received from Malfoy. Complimenting her brains always appeased her, and so she softened slightly.

Resigning herself, she muttered, "Doesn't seem like you'd ever get 'stuck with the short straw' if you didn't want to be. You _are_ a Malfoy."

So she'd recognised that his cronies all worshipped him, and he got the sense she knew it wasn't real friendship like she had with Weasel and Scarhead. Now Draco must seem like a right twat. He deserves it though, after all, he encouraged the adoration he received for his family name during their earlier years at Hogwarts.

They sat there in silence; Draco wondering where said cronies actually were (because he hadn't actually realised they were bunking class until now) and Hermione still in shock at the fact he had given her a compliment.

Seeing the look of shock registered on her face, and being worried she would think that this interaction was tolerable for him, he said in a low tone, "Don't look so surprised. I still wouldn't go anywhere near you so don't try anything like the other night again."

"You tripped into me, remember?" she retorted quickly. With that small taunt she had subtly reminded him of the fact that he had sought her out to swap their trunks.

He stayed silent, having no response.

He couldn't deny that…so he decided to change the subject to one he was more comfortable with.

"Where the fuck is Burbage" he scowled.

Draco was right, everyone was ridiculously late. Plus, if he wasn't coming for class surely he should have owled cover work?

"Not like I wanted to learn about your inferior race anyway" he pushed, trying to nudge her temper.

"I guess you didn't" she said, not rising to it.

"This class really it a waste of time, just like you muggle-borns" he taunted, clearly trying to reassert his ideas about blood purity more than actually wanting to offend her.

"Mhmmm…" she gritted her teeth.

Still no response from her, even though he could see her silently fuming.

Malfoy continued, "I mean really they shouldn't be teaching this-"

"You know what Malfoy, drop the bloody act!" Hermione interrupted him, a film of red covering her vision as she felt hot, sweltering rage course through her.

Malfoy stared at her. Her darkened eyes and deep breathing making her look like a lioness, with a mane of hair crowning her head. For the first time in ages he didn't want to respond, he wanted to just watch her in all her ferocious beauty.

"I don't know what you're talking about" Malfoy responded coolly.

With another burst of ferocity she snarled, "You bloody well do! For Godric's sake you don't need to do this around me! I already know that I have to work five times as hard as everyone else just to get simple spells correct and I already know it's going to be ten times as hard for me to get employed in the Wizarding world with your family corrupting half of the frigging government. So if you think for just one second I need to put up with your pureblood shit, which by the way, even you don't believe in anymore, then you are _wrong_."

She was now standing, relentlessly continuing her tirade; "And because I know you don't believe a word of it anymore, I don't want to have to hear you try and reassure yourself of it every minute."

She prowled across the room, as if cornering her prey.

"You are bloody well privileged and I'm sick of hearing you struggling with accepting the reality of the fact that blood supremacy does not exist, when I'm struggling living in a world where the prejudice is a reality for me."

She was standing face to face with him. Her eyes blazed darkly and her chin was raised proudly.

"I am a Mudblood, as you so eloquently put it, I am royally screwed in the Wizarding world and…" she punctuated each word with a sharp prod to his chest: "I-just-don't-need-your-shit."

Feeling a weight had lifted off her chest she walked back over to her desk and began packing away her things.

"Apparently class was cancelled and our great mates decided not to tell us." Hermione said over her shoulder, trying to diffuse the tension from her rant about his family and blood status.

Draco had moved silently over to her desk and she felt him standing behind her. As she went to take her quill from her desk to pack in her bag, but he grabbed her wrist and spun her round to face him.

He looked straight into her eyes and growled "Don't associate me with my family."

Draco was never a man of many words, meaning that when he did speak he said a lot with as few words as possible. This small comment spoke millions to Hermione who knew this was an apology on behalf of his family and confirmation that he didn't think she was inferior, not even close.

She knew to read between the lines and Draco was thankful that she wouldn't make him say it explicitly. She wanted to thank him, and a simple "thank you" did not seem suitable for the huge admission he had just trusted her with.

But how do you thank a guy who has everything?

That's when she grabbed his face in her hands and kissed him.

Draco hesitated then caught her mouth and respond to the kiss, closing the space between them with a forceful determination. Without breaking the kiss he backed her up against her desk and leaned his face down closer to hers, placing his hands firmly on hers hips.

Tightening his grip he powerfully hoisted her up to sit on the classroom desk. He liked the control he had over the naive Hermione Granger.

Or at least he thought he was the one in control, until she wound her legs round his hips and pulled him closer to her. The collision of their hips caused him to make a growling sound from the back of his throat. There was something instinctual and animalistic about Hermione and him. It seemed natural. But he also knew it was ruled by volatile and passionate emotions. Anger, lust, pride… they felt it all in extremes when they were together.

Her tongue seemed to wrestle with his, his hard jawline pushing against hers but her warm lips moving against his and fighting him for control.

She draped her arms around his neck and got lost in their kiss, toying with the hair on the back of his head and twirling the short locks around her fingers. He almost lost himself too, hearing her raspy breathing as he bit and sucked at the bottom of her neck near her collar. He would leave her a mark to tell her she was his. It would bruise a reddish-purple hue, and he knew he was trusting her with this as evidence of their relationship. He was trusting her to have it and hide it, just below her collar as their little secret.

He saw her chest heaving and sensing the reason for his distraction, she pushed herself up against his chest, tempting him to just rip open her shirt right there. But luckily Draco had retained some self-control and instead distracted his hands by tightening their grip around her hips and tugging her closer to kiss her again. She was acutely aware of the minimal layers of clothing between them, but instead of making her wary it just made her feel randy.

He tore his lips away from hers, and she looked up at him puzzled at why he would stop. He got his breath back and leaned his forehead against hers, looking into her dark lusty eyes. She stared back up at his powerful grey gaze wanting very badly to pull him back down to her. But she knew he had to come back in his own time.

They both closed their eyes and breathed the same air, their lips brushing against each other but neither daring to rush this moment. Draco then moved in purposefully and their lips locked when-

There was a loud thump on the class room door and it swung open a few seconds later.

Draco and Hermione swore simultaneously;

"Shit!"

* * *

**Again thank you so much for sticking with this fic so far! If you have any spare time then fave or review because I love feedback (even negative feedback is helpful)**

**FUN FACTS:**

**1) I was re-reading the Order of the Phoenix and realised how much I adored Peeves as a character. He wasn't in the original draft for this chapter but I think I squeezed him in quite well.**

**2) The absence of the staff at breakfast is relevant. I try not to include random waffle where I can avoid it so things usually have a purpose if I write them in, just keep that in mind when reading future chapters.**

**3) The line where Draco describes Hermione as "allergic to the full spectrum of human emotion" is actually from one of my favourite films, but is so true in Hermione's case I had to include it. In the trio, she is the brains and Ron is the heart. She often thinks rationally and disregards emotions when trying to problem solve, a characteristic I identify with and absolutely needed to include.**

**4) I know in the books Hogwarts never allowed student's to be teacher's assistants but why else would a muggle-born witch like Hermione be taking Muggle Studies? I fully believe that it would be probable that Hogwarts could introduce a teacher's assistant/ work experience kind of scheme to try to improve the employability of their graduates.**

**5) I may have gone a bit over board on Hermione's rant, but I felt like I was ranting about my problems in the real world through Hermione in this chapter. That's the brilliance of Harry Potter, its morals about blood prejudice relate so brilliantly to the struggles of racism, homophobia, etc. Hermione's rant was suppose to be cathartic for her, and it was for me as well. And notice how as the privileged one, Draco, does not say "Well I have it hard too" (just saying...he's learning.)**

**6) The competition aspect of their relationship is important to me. They always talk bout breaking the other person or winning. They were intellectual equals, always sparring with each other in their earlier years and I think it would be difficult for them to remove this from their relationship.**

**Sorry about the cliff hanger, the next chapter will (hopefully) make up for it. Review and fave if you enjoyed it! Pretty please and thank you!**


	4. The First Floor Girls' Lavatory

**Author's Note: Sorry this chapters late but I've been at interviews for universities all week so I hope you can forgive me!**

**Thanks for those who have favourited, reviewed and followed! Let me know your opinions on this if you have time to, it really helps and I really appreciate it!**

**Disclaimer: Sadly JKR didn't make Dramione canon, so that's evidence enough that I'm not her and therefore I don't own anything to do with HP. **

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There was a loud thump on the class room door and it swung open a few seconds later, giving Hermione and Draco just enough time to jump apart and straighten themselves up.

Harry and Ron then strolled in with Harry mumbling to Ron that he needn't have a temper with the door, the handle was just a bit stiff. However peeved Harry was at Ron's impatience, Hermione was secretly rejoicing at Ron's irritated thump which had given her and Draco a warning and just enough time to move apart.

"We thought we'd find you here, only just realised we forgot to tell you class was cancelled. Rumours say that the staff are dealing with a threat to the school but I'll bet they're all just taking a day off." Ron offered this up as a severely deficient apology.

Harry added "Once we found out, we skipped breakfast to train for Quidditch. Wanted to get onto the pitch early seeing as there were no classes."

At this moment she hated them fiercely for their interruption, and loved them equally fiercely for interrupting as she didn't know what she wanted from Draco yet. As well as that he had a reputation with the female population of Hogwarts, and she was not interested in _that_ kind of relationship just yet. She had her studies to focus on. Then again she was pretty sure he was on the same page, in not wanting any sort of relationship at all, which suited her just fine.

The dark lusty look in her eyes, stimulated by her and Draco's kiss was misinterpreted by Harry for anger.

"Aw 'Mione please don't be mad" Harry begged glancing over at Malfoy, who had moved back to the Slytherin's side of the classroom, fixing a look of contempt on his face. "Look we're really sorry you had to put up with Malfoy"

She looked down at the floor. Hermione was chewing her lip and debating whether to say something in Malfoy's defence like "he's not that bad" or "he hasn't been a bother", but she then realised how suspicious that would look.

Draco must have noticed her hesitation, and interrupted- "More like I had to put up with her- she's awful company."

Oh for Godric's sake. So that's how he was going to play it? Fantastic.

Harry and Ron were looking at him venomously, and had both opened their mouths, no doubt to spit an insulting remark at Malfoy but then she bit back at Draco herself.

"It's alright guys… he's _not worth it_" she said, hooking her back over her shoulder and turning to face her friends.

She hope she hadn't been too cryptic. She thought he might have just assumed it was just another insult, typical of their usual spats, but then she turned to him and saw a flash of anger in his eyes. She'd insulted their kiss just then and so cowered away from him slightly, knowing he could be far nastier than her.

But the biting response never came from him.

Draco could easily have had the last word. He always did. They all knew it, especially the two other Gryffindor boys who were looking suspiciously at him over their shoulders, confused about his silence and expecting a hex to be sent their way. Malfoy watched her walk away with her friends, seemingly unaware that she had hit a nerve with him.

He muttered dejectedly to the empty classroom, "Well I was asking for that."

* * *

Over the next few months Hermione hid herself in the library. She had always tried avoiding being in the public eye, even though she knew it was difficult when she was the best friend of the 'Chosen One'. Ever since she had argued with Malfoy she had been trying to distract herself from the war which raged outside the walls. Arguments surrounding blood status could be heard throughout the echoing corridors of Hogwarts castle and were fuelled by the hostilities, making it harder and harder for her to ignore.

The whispered "Mudblood" comments were becoming less furtive, said louder and with a sense of righteousness. But Hermione tried not to blame them.

After all they were all taught from a young age that she was inferior, and once taught something by the individuals who you admire and who raised you, it is difficult to contradict these beliefs. Who would question the authority of a parental figure, especially when brought up in such a strict and regimented environment as a Pureblood household?

So she really couldn't blame them.

They were all victims here.

Unfortunately for Malfoy, she seemed to believe that she really could blame him.

Her withdrawal from her social life at school was clearly due to him. At first Draco checked his arrogance for believing he was the sole reason she studied more, it was Granger after all. She was probably just being her usual nerdy self.

But, he had noticed she didn't make the effort to come to breakfast at the same time as him anymore and she didn't catch his eye. She seemed to have just lost interest.

But there were moments when he walked into the library, and saw her eyes flit down as his went to meet hers. She had been looking at him entering the room, the blush on her freckled cheeks and the way she shyly tucked her hair behind her ear revealing that he hadn't just imagined it.

Not so comforting was the fact that she always looked away.

Always.

He hadn't been able to get her to look him in the eye for ages now and they were almost halfway through the winter term. He always managed to screw up with girls; he hadn't the patience or the commitment to deal with them. He found himself thinking of the Gryffindor princess who he had screwed up with so monumentally that this time that he wasn't sure if she would give in to him again.

The library in the evening was quiet and he watched as the dust particles shimmered in the air where the light streaming through the tall windows hit them, making the air seem thick. Yet, he still felt his breath hitch in his throat when he looked over at the girl and saw her straighten her legs and stretch, arching her back and releasing a yawn which caused her nose to wrinkle. She then stood up, clearly realising as Draco had half an hour ago, she had been so absorbed in her book that everyone else in the library had left for dinner.

Except for him.

He then realised how difficult it would be when she notices they are the only two people left here.

_Well this is going just great_, Draco thought sarcastically.

Gathering up his books hastily and shoving them in his bag as he stood up and half-ran to the exit, hoping she would think he was just catching up on some work. Actually that's what he had aimed to do, he just got a bit distracted mid-essay is all…

Hermione and Draco, both running away from the potentially awkward situation hurtled towards the library door, each aiming to get out before the other. But they were both speeding towards the doors at an equal speed.

_He'll slow down surely_, Hermione thought.

_Why is she walking so fast, if she's not careful we'll both end up-_

Draco didn't get to finish his train of thought as they both stopped abruptly in front of each other so they didn't collide.

In front of them there was only room for one of them to go through the door at a time without touching shoulders. Both of them wanted to keep a significant distance between themselves and the other so they both stood there in front of the door, trying and failing to nod the other one through.

Hermione bobbed her head to the side, indicating that Malfoy could go first but feeling awkward as it is Malfoy tried gesturing for Hermione to go first.

Stubborn as she was Hermione shook her head and said "It's alright".

"No really I insist, ladies first" Malfoy said smoothly as he pulled the large wooden door towards him. He said it so sincerely, his aristocratic roots becoming apparent through his show of good manners. _He usually does such a fantastic job of hiding them_, Hermione thought to herself wryly.

But it was times like these when she got a glimpse of the real Draco Malfoy. Malfoy was a gentleman. She hated that he had redeeming qualities because she really would prefer to just write him off as another pretentious Pureblood, but Hermione was far cleverer than that. She knew…

Smiling at him shyly she walked through the open door, swaying her hips as she moved silently down the corridor. Tucking the larger books she had loaned from the library into her arms and hugging them closer to her chest, she wandered slowly down the corridor, half hoping he would catch up with her and half hoping she would get away from him without interference. She turned her head back over her shoulder to see if he was coming and immediately regretted it.

She saw his grey eyes fix to hers and she couldn't move. They were piercing and unblinking, with a look of steely determination which she had always admired.

She paused.

He then looked down at the stone floor of the castle and turned onto different corridor. He didn't want to compete for her because he couldn't be with her publically, which was unfair on both of them. However, he also didn't want to compete with her either in this game they were playing; trying to win each other's attention while cautiously shielding their real thoughts. He knew he would lose.

Granger never lost…

They had come to a truce.

She had acknowledged him and he had acknowledged her. They were civil, but his leaving her alone indicated he didn't want anything more between them… so she didn't want anything more from him. With a dip of her head, she continued down one of the more deserted corridors in order to take a shortcut back to the Gryffindor common rooms.

She had lost. She really hated losing.

And then, as the tears began to flood down her cheeks she broke into a run, her robes billowing at her ankles and the sound of her footsteps echoing off the cold walls.

* * *

Running from the third floor, down the sweeping staircases to the first floor girls' lavatory she continued her crying, the whole time wondering what exactly she was crying over.

On her mad sprint to the privacy of the lavatories, she tried to be honest with herself. She thought about the many potential reasons for her crying. She loved Malfoy? _Definitely not, she had only just admitted she was attracted to him. I mean really, she wasn't the type to just fall straight in._

She tripped slightly over a step thinking too hard about the multitude of other reasons.

She had been lonely? _I wish loneliness was the problem here but I'm pretty sure that's not it._

Maybe it was the rejection? _No, Hermione had dealt with her fair share of rejections when she was younger and in her ugly duckling phase. Heck even her two best friends had rejected her as a nerdy "nutcase" when they first met her. _

She just couldn't put her finger on it.

She wasn't especially sad. She was just crying.

She knew there must be a reason… she just couldn't pin point why.

As she burst loudly through the doors leading to the lavatory she felt a sense of relief realising she had managed to avoid anyone seeing her like this.

The hysteria had mellowed and she now found herself walking over to the sink, taking deep breaths and trying to stop her sobs. Clasping her hands round the edge of one of the sinks she stared up at her reflection.

Her puffy eyes and red cheeks could be fixed with a quick spell, and she didn't care too much about her appearance anyways. It was the cold look of distress in her eyes which made her recognise what it was that made her cry.

She hadn't realised it at first but when she realised his attitudes to Muggleborns were changing she had hoped she was the catalyst. She had hoped she could change his views, make him accept her. Somehow she had believed if she had been able to make him like her, it would solve the issues caused by blood supremacy.

Rationally she knew it wouldn't solve the wizarding world's problems but it was a start. Besides, it would have been an important personal victory.

With this rejection she felt like he had given up on her.

She had been dismissed.

She began sniffling again, the ragged breaths indicating another onslaught of violent sobbing. She scurried into a toilet cubicle and grabbed some tissues wiping the tears as soon as they appeared on her face.

Maybe if they never ran down her cheeks they wouldn't count as tears? _What a stupid thought_, Hermione groaned, _of course they were real tears._

To makes things better, just when Hermione was at her lowest point, Moaning Myrtle rose from the toilet, no doubt sensing Hermione's distress and like a ship to a beacon, arriving to tease her.

"Oh deary me, crying are we?" Myrtle tutted, her translucent white form floating upwards and her crossed arms indicating Hermione would be receiving very little kindness from the ghost.

"Oh spare me Myrtle" Hermione said cuttingly, through gritted teeth.

Sounding incredibly miffed Myrtle wailed, "You're in my cubicle you know!"

Hermione was not prepared for a childish bickering session with Myrtle but she also didn't want to return to the Gryffindor Common Room just yet. She could still feel the tears brimming in her eyes and she knew that her two best friends, even if they each have the emotional range of a teaspoon, would be able to recognise that she was upset.

Even Ron would pick up on something.

So she just leant back against the side of the cubicle, trying to steady her breathing and trying to ignore Myrtles comments. But it was difficult when every minute the ghoul would nag her: "They used to tell me only wimps cry, are you a wimp Hermione?", "Did someone tell you how frizzy your hair is?" and "Did the boys tell you they don't really like you?" were just a few of the charming comments she heard from Myrtle.

Hermione supposed that this must be karma, coming back to bite her in the arse because of how horrid she had been to Myrtle in second year. She knew Myrtle wanted to get revenge on her, so she allowed the ghost to tease her, continuing to cry and letting out a huge sob with every nasty insult Myrtle added.

It worked to weigh her down and she sunk to the floor, leaning her back against the cubicle.

Perhaps realising what she had done was similar to the actions of her tormentor, Olive Hornby, Myrtle softened. She floated down and sat opposite to Hermione.

"Is it Ron?" Myrtle asked in her irritatingly high pitch. Hermione shook her head.

"Is it a boy?" Myrtle continued nagging, less persistently though.

Hermione paused, debating whether she should tell Myrtle and risk it being spread around the whole school by the ghosts. But her pause had indicated enough to Myrtle who, although way past 60 years old, was still a teenage girl at heart and still understood the chaos of a teenage girl's love life.

"So it is a boy!" Myrtle said triumphantly, her eyes sparkling.

The new information gave her the opportunity to ruin Hermione Granger, but when looking into the bushy haired girls eyes, Myrtle felt a sympathy for her which Granger had not previously inspired.

Myrtle realised that Granger was a lot like her; clever (Myrtle was a Ravenclaw after all), she hadn't been pretty and had been bullied by students and teachers alike for her large front teeth and birds nest hair and most of all, Hermione found it difficult to form friendships. Or any type of relationships for that matter.

They really were quite similar and in that moment Myrtle felt a pang in her heart as she watched the girl cry…and then she remembered she didn't have a heart and began to wail.

"Oh what _is_ it Myrtle?" Hermione hissed, with both concern and exasperation.

"I just forgot I was dead that's all," Myrtle whispered, "Who's the boy?"

"He's a Slytherin"

"Oh no, you know I was killed by a Slytherin."

"Yes Myrtle," Hermione sighed, "but I just thought…he was… I don't know"

"You just thought…" Myrtle repeated, "I just thought… the boy was here to tease me, but then he killed me…". Hermione could see the ghost reliving the final day of her life in her head and the spirit then suddenly began to cry hysterically again.

Spending about 20 minutes consoling Myrtle after that was difficult and really tried Hermione's patience. But she still sat there with the ghost, understanding the horror Myrtle experienced when she was killed by those yellow eyes. Hermione was haunted by them to this day, and she had only been petrified. Hermione never realised it in her early school years but Myrtle was bitter and resentful for a reason, that reason being she had been murdered at the age of 14 solely for being born from muggle parents.

It wasn't fair.

Later, having had enough of her pity party with Myrtle, Hermione sorted out her tear-stained face with a few glamour spells, brushed off her robes and walked out of the bathroom, waving to a slightly less miserable Myrtle and promising herself that would be the last time Draco Malfoy ever made her cry.

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**I hate to nag (sorry, not sorry) but please review/ fave if you're reading and I will love you for ever and ever!**

**FUN FACTS:**

**1) I know in the books Myrtle and Hermione had a strenuous relationship at best but I feel that as they matured they would reconcile. They were so similar; bullied, muggleborn, clever etc. and Hermione would have ended up like Myrtle (remember she cried in the toilets on Halloween of first year) had she not befriended Harry and Ron. There is a level of empathy there and that interaction will be relevant in future chapters.**

**2) I was going to have someone catch them kissing in the classroom, but then that would take the fun out of their relationship. Having secrets between two people always makes a story more entertaining.**

**3) I feel like it's completely forgotten in the books that being petrified by the Basilisk must have been a traumatic experience for all of those who were attacked. This chapter was just a little reminder of how much of a shit Salazar Slytherin was by making a monster attack the unskilled and innocent students of Hogwarts. **

**Sorry for the kind of sad chapter, but we all need a little bit of angst now and then. And there's no kind of angst quite like Dramione angst. Next chapter will be up in a week or two, until then thanks for reading!**


	5. Veritaserum

**Author's Note: Hey again, sorry it's been a while but I am currently trying to juggle work, school and a social life along with writing this story. Things have kept me very busy as well as having some serious writer's block, so I apologise but I have a long chapter here to make up for it. Also I'm used to writing fluff or smut so this angst is draining me, so I sometimes have to take a break from Dramione. I haven't started writing the next chapter so I don't know when the next one will be up but it should be soon! **

**I, once again, am not happy with this but I thought I would post it anyway. It's not like glaring at my computer screen will improve it so here goes!**

**Fave, follow or review if you like it! Let me know what you think! **

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything. **

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Following her emotional breakdown in the winter term, Hermione decided that she would avoid the First Floor Girl's Lavatories at all cost, unable to fathom why she had allowed herself to be so vulnerable in front of Myrtle. Frankly, it was embarrassing and she wanted to forget all about it.

All the students returned from their Christmas holidays intact, and all of the fifth years felt the panic over revision for O.W.L.s set in. They were tense with the knowledge that they should begin revision now, and allow enough time to remember every detail of their text books. But often students didn't pay attention to what they should begin doing and instead continued with what they wanted to be doing.

All except for Hermione. She dived into revision head first.

The increasing hostility towards her due to her blood status meant that she had a lot of time outside of classes where she wasn't busy and wouldn't really leave the Gryffindor common room. This gave her the perfect opportunity to work and avoid Malfoy, and in no time whatever feelings she had towards him were gone.

She felt that coldness towards him return, and saw the return of hostility in his feelings towards her. Just like that, their peaceful relationship crossed back over the line to a cold and adversarial relationship.

Gryffindor against Slytherin.

Muggleborn against pureblood.

The classes held between the Gryffindor's and Slytherin's were cut back due to antagonism between the houses. This meant the only class the two houses had together was Potions… and this was only because of confusion over a timetabling issue. Hermione often groaned to herself that if Professor Slughorn would only work one extra hour she would not have to endure mixing with the snakes. She had a feeling that he had refused to teach the classes separately, making a vain attempt to bring the enemy houses together during his lessons.

One attempt in late January was so obvious that there was an uproar in the classroom.

"Today I will put you in your pairs for your newest brewing project. I will put you with partners of similar aptitude so that you won't be advantaged or disadvantaged due to your partner. Remember, I grade you on whether I think you reached your full potential and gave it your best efforts so worry about doing your best, not being the top of the class."

This announcement was met with groans, sneers and even a few exclamatory blood slurs.

Draco rolled his eyes. Slughorn always had been such a sap. His attempts to unite the houses would get no one anywhere. I mean bloody hell, in a couple of years when they were all out in the real world they would be battling against each other.

Hermione groaned at Slughorn's announcement. Unfortunately for her he would be expecting extraordinary things from her work. She hated having set the bar so high for herself, because on cold winter mornings like these she could barely summon the energy to get out of bed, let alone perform in class.

To be honest, she wasn't sure if she was going to make it through this lesson.

She looked over her shoulders to Ron and Harry, who were also almost fast asleep and smiled to herself. Harry was giving Ron advice on how let Lavender Brown down easily.

"She left me a trail of rose petals in the common room this morning mate" Ron squeaked worriedly.

"Seriously Ron I have positively no idea when it comes to the female population, completely bloody foreign to me" said Harry, somewhat exasperatedly.

"Please" Ron whimpered.

"Hermione's a girl. Ask her!" Harry whined, trying to deflect Ron's begging and nagging onto Granger.

"Seriously Ron, just grow a pair and tell her!" Hermione snapped. Ron and Harry had assumed that her snappishness was because of her crush on Ron in their earlier school years. Harry had confronted her about it and rather than have to explain everything to him, she let him believe it. Did that make her a bad person? Probably not, but she didn't feel too great about lying either.

It would be a lot easier to have him believe that unrequited love made her miserable, not her brief fling with his enemy Draco Malfoy. Not only would he not believe it but he wouldn't look at her the same… and she needed Harry like a sister needs her brother. _All I can do now is repent… and regret everything._

Sighing when Ron looked a bit taken back with her scolding, she advised him to "Pretend you're interested in someone else, she'll definitely get the hint and probably focus her hatred on the girl." Wise advice. Rational… and decidedly uncaring for whichever unfortunate girl Ron would choose to blame for his lack of interest in Lavender.

"Hermione you're bloody brilliant!" Ron exclaimed.

Hermione rolled her eyes and Harry mumbled something about the other girls in their year needing to sleep with their eyes open and then said, "Good luck to them, Brown is batshit crazy".

Hermione turned back to the front of the classroom hearing her name.

"Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy, of course, top of the class" Slughorn called.

She felt her breathing falter for a second and a small pinch in her chest but compartmentalised the pain immediately.

She was fine.

Draco was nothing to her anymore.

She heard him protest at having to work with her but Slughorn dismissed the complaint, reminding Draco that "If anything Mr Malfoy, Hermione here will raise your grade in Potions, not hinder it because of her blood lineage. Be grateful, dear boy."

She heard the growl coming from Draco along with the sneers of his friends and shuddered. Harry and Ron stared at her sympathetically and Ron actually volunteered to swap partners with her. "After all I'm a pureblood even if I am a blood traitor, hopefully he'll give me less of a hard time," said Ron as he nudged Hermione. He didn't say the words pureblood boastfully, he only meant to help Hermione out of a sticky situation. But it just reminded her of the difficulty she faced in the wizarding world.

It just distanced her from him and from Harry, and especially from Draco.

She was quite alone.

Regardless, she couldn't swap. The pairs were already set and based on ability. There was no getting out of this one.

She didn't respond to Ron and instead gritted her teeth, gathering her books and crossing the classroom to where Draco and his fellow Slytherins sat. She had crossed into enemy territory; her temporary stay was as unnerving for her as much as it was for the Slytherins. Her legs were shaking as she sat down at his desk. Most other pairs were made up of two people from the same house.

As a lone speck of red in a swarm of green and with the Slytherins shooting her unsettling glares, she was on high alert.

"Granger, are you going to open your books?" Malfoy prompted her. It sounded dangerously… cordial?

_Where was the hostility?_ Immediately her paranoia was ramped up another couple of levels.

"Shut up Malfoy" she growled. They were going to have to use Malfoy's cauldron so Hermione began crushing, slicing and juicing the ingredients which they would have to boil as Malfoy tampered with the heating underneath his cauldron to set the correct temperature.

She had finished her task before him. She may have been impatient but with her nerves already on edge she didn't feel keen on helping or correcting him. She didn't realise she had been thrumming her fingers impatiently on the desk when Draco's head snapped up, "Can I help you?"

Startled Hermione just ducked her head and insisted that no, it was nothing. _Since when did Granger act so demure?_

It was not nothing, both she and Draco knew that.

It was the awkward knowledge of what had transpired between the two of them months earlier in a classroom very much like this one, on a desk very much like the one they were standing next to right now which made the atmosphere so taut.

With a huge effort, Malfoy's pride could be put aside and he could ask for help. Pride may have been an integral part of his character but ambition always outweighed pride. Even if it meant asking a muggle-born to work with him.

He looked down at her wrist and saw that her finger tapping was to cover the nervous shaking of her hands. _Was she scared of him?_ Surely he had never given her the idea that he would hurt her… then again the way his housemates were all looking at her like she was a piece of meat couldn't exactly be comforting.

Darting his eyes around the room before placing a hand over hers for the briefest of seconds, he leaned down to her ear and muttered a request that she help him.

"This godforsaken flame won't adjust correctly for me. Have a go, I can tell you're itching to tamper with it" he said with a slight laugh in his voice. He then stood back from his desk and looked at Hermione expectantly. "Well?"

The rest of the lesson continued with a light atmosphere, Draco's small jests having the effect of easing the tension in her shoulders. She stood shoulder to shoulder with him at the cauldron, stirring in the ingredients. He muttered a small incantation and then she continued to stir the mixture, which was thinning and becoming the clear thin water-like substance which they were supposed to be making.

At the front of the classroom, Slughorn was lecturing his students, although almost all of them ignored him as they panicked that their potions had the wrong consistency, looked like oatmeal or were bright pink.

"If your potion looks thin, watery and clear then you have successfully brewed Veritaserum. Now don't worry if you haven't, it is a highly advanced potion. I only expected a few to be capable…"

Slughorn continued to talk.

"Then why the bloody hell did he make us do it?" Hermione heard Ron question loudly on the other side of the classroom. Luckily for Ron, Slughorn was too involved in his own speech to notice the outburst.

"…and so to test the potion is correctly brewed you must test the scent immediately after it has been brewed. Can anyone tell me why the check must be done immediately?" said Slughorn.

He looked directly at Hermione as her hand raised into the air. He nodded and prompted, "Miss Granger?"

"After a few minutes the scent of the potion becomes very faint and indistinct. The potion must mature for a full lunar phase, after which the potion is odourless."

The professor grinned, "5 points to Gryffindor! Yes, so if you believe your potion is ready, pour it into a vial and then smell it. Now I don't want to give you too many clues, so turn to page 284 in your textbook to find out what the odour should be"

Draco had turned to the page but Hermione already knew. They had to smell sulphur. The sulphurous scent was indicative of the potency of the potion, a.k.a. how successful the potion had been brewed.

Draco ladled the clear liquid into the flask he had produced from his bag and sniffed the potion, wrinkling his nose. That was a good sign.

He flicked the clasp back down on the lid to trap the smell in the vial, and stepped closer to her.

Everyone else was packing up as no one else had managed to successfully produce the Truth potion, not even Harry. Him and Ron were bickering over his stupid 'Half-Blood Prince's' textbook while they scourgified their cauldrons and packed spare ingredients away.

Slughorn then announced he was just popping into his office and would be back in five minutes.

As the bustle continued around them, as people cleared away their cauldrons and walked round the classroom meandering to find their friends, chatting in groups. Hermione stared up at Draco. He moved into her space and lifted his hand containing the vial to her. Her heart stammered slightly at his proximity. She leaned closer and he saw her hand move up, he thought, to take the bottle from his outstretched hand. Instead she gripped his wrist and pulled his arm towards her to test the potion. If she was honest, she was just trying to tug him closer to her.

Seconds later she lowered their arms out of her eyeline and stared into those intense grey eyes. His furrowed brows looked puzzled, but not hesitant. In fact he leaned down, his wide shoulders towering over her.

Then, suddenly, all hell broke loose.

"Get off her!" she heard Ron bellow as a hex hit Malfoy. His body jolted forward from the impact of the spell. The potion Draco had been holding between them exploded from the open vial all over Hermione's white school shirt as he lost his grip on it.

Draco whipped round to face Ron, growled as he armed himself with his wand and was about to do some serious damage when he heard wolf-whistles from the Slytherin's.

Thoroughly confused, he turned to his comrades and saw that Hermiones shirt had been soaked through. The girl was positively fuming and was about to hex him because her top had turned see through and his sleazy friends were eyeing her like a piece of meat, for a completely different reason than before. Her underwear could clearly be seen and everyone was just gawping at the girl who had been so modest. This glimpse seemed to shock everyone.

At least the Gryffindor boys respected her enough to avert their eyes, but the snakes were looking at her greedily and she just wanted to tear Draco's head off. Actually she wanted to tear whoever hexed Draco's head off.

But for now she was just trying to cover herself by crossing her arms across her chest. She nervously tugged her hair behind her ear- a nervous habit that Draco remembered- and shuffled her feet a little. Regardless of this, he could see her temper bristling and the ferocity in her eyes made her a formidable opponent. He wanted to protect her from them but at the moment he was just trying to escape her famous venomous glare which usually came right before she hexed someone straight into the hospital wing.

"What the hell Malfoy? All over my shirt?" she growled at him, clearly recovering from her brief lapse in wariness. "Are you not capable of one simple task! Just hold the vial still and don't chuck it all over me, it's not that difficult!" She then whipped round on Ron and pointed at her friend from across the classroom, "And you! You're such a moron Ronald Weasley! Are you really so inept with your wand that you can't control yourself for one second?"

This resulted in some sniggers from the rest of the class, and Hermione relented, not wanting to give anyone more ammunition against Ron. After all he was already a "blood traitor".

Having worked herself up into a worse state she was now feeling ruthless. She refused to take anyone's crap. Her cloak was across the classroom in her old seat. She braced herself and made a stride towards it.

Before she could get much momentum, she heard a snarl from Draco who had stepped in front of her to cover her from the class's gazes. He turned back around to face her then, and enveloped her, still concealing her from everyone in the room. Turning his head back to everyone he grunted, "Get back to work, now." The order commanded the room who, though still curious, went back to work.

He then lifted his jumper over his head. His shirt came up with his jumper to reveal a strong and toned stomach. Almost reaching out to touch the revealed skin she looked down at her feet and tried not to get caught gazing by anyone, especially Malfoy. The grey woollen material was then shoved at her quickly, and she stared down at it for a second.

She could just go and get her robe but that was on the other side of the classroom, and she couldn't stand the hungry eyes surrounding her for much longer. Pulling it over her head, her petite figure was engulfed in the massive jumper and the sleeves extended far past her hands. She was overwhelmed with the smell of Draco's musky scent and sank further into the hugely comfy jersey.

He gave her a worried glance and a small smile to reassure her.

They then turned back to their cauldron, both of them staring down anyone who looked at them funnily. Ron looked puzzled by her agreement to wear Malfoys jumper and Harry looked furious. Pansy Parkinson was also glaring at her, when she thought that really, she should be glaring at her friend.

_Oh how convenient_ Hermione thought as Slughorn emerged from his office too late to know anything had been amiss. When they handed in their potion (collected from the remaining liquid in the Cauldron) for Slughorn's assessment, Draco nodded at her encouragingly.

"I do hope Sluggie was right Granger."

Hermione quirked an eyebrow at him so he explained, "I hope you prove me wrong… I hope you raise our grade."

What exactly did Draco mean? It sounded like he wasn't talking about himself. He wasn't even threatening her, so why would he say she hopes she proves herself? Was Draco hoping she would prove his fellow Slytherin's wrong? Hoping she would prove his public complaints wrong?

She clearly thought too much of him. He would never.

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Exiting the eventful Potions lesson, everyone was eyeing Hermione and Draco as they crossed back over the metaphorical line drawn between them, returning to their separate groups.

Ron and Harry were glaring at her back as the trio walked in silence, and then the moment Hermione had been dreading came. Harry was the first to cut through the tense atmosphere.

"What- 'Mione what was all that about?" he said, with his hands nervously in his robe pockets but clenching his jaw.

_Oh my Godric how do I even begin to explain this?_

"Draco and I are the best in the class. We work well together, there was no need for Ron to hex him!" fumed Hermione. _Go on the offensive, have them trying to defend themselves so they won't question you. The best defence is offence._

"I'm sorry, I just thought he was getting close to you!" Ron mumbled as he tried to excuse himself.

"Oh! How dare the person I am working on brewing a potion with come near me! What did you think he was going to do? He couldn't bloody well go and hex me with Slughorn in the next room!" Hermione shouted as the boys walked alongside her, looking even more sheepish and remorseful by the second. _Oh praise Merlin that this is working!_

"I know it was stupid of Ron but that doesn't explain what happened afterwards" Harry continued, raising an eyebrow. He was clearly alluding to the fact Draco protected her rather than feeding her to the serpents as would be expected. His eyes glanced briefly at the jumper underneath Hermione's robes, Draco's jumper, which he said she could return anytime.

Then Hermione felt a flame of rage in her chest at the accusation. "Well you two did bugger all didn't you? If one of you had offered up your jumpers or even just handed me my robe which by the way, was right next to you, then I wouldn't have had to take his bloody jumper, would I?"

At least they had the decency to look abashed. "I wasn't exactly going to stand there for everyone to ogle me, so if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go and change out of this shirt." She spat her last words to the two boys, "I'll see you two at lunch."

Three boys watched her march down the corridor, hair flowing down her back and arms swinging with her hands in fists.

"Godric forbid anyone meets her on her way, they will have hell to pay" Ron muttered.

Down the corridor from them, Draco Malfoy had just walked out the classroom after lingering behind with his housemates as they always did. He glanced and cautiously watched her disappear round the corner at the end of the corridor, and then heard one of his friends say her name, "Who knew Granger had such a good body?"

Blaise, the boy who had spoken, and the other Slytherins still had a hungry look in their eyes which made Malfoy uncomfortable. He started in the opposite direction to the two Gryffindor boys and his friends followed.

"Draco seemed to know something about it" Pansy said snarkily, clearly jealous of the way Draco had treated Hermione. Pansy had been vying after him for two years now and he hadn't so much as given her a second glance. _Oh here goes… since when did she get so observant anyway?_

"That's stupid Pansy, she's a mudblood" Draco said disdainfully, rolling his eyes as though it was self-explanatory. To the Slytherins it was though, a mudblood would never be able to gain the affection of a pureblood. It simply wasn't possible to them, and that was that.

The others nodded in agreement, but Pansy pushed the point. "If she's only a mudblood, why did you cover her?"

His patience was being tested and he wasn't sure how long he could suppress the cold anger he felt run up his spine. "Pansy for Salazar's sake," he gritted his teeth. "First of all, these idiots were being a shame to their family names, they couldn't seem to keep their eyes off of her," he glowered at the other boys. Continuing their walk to their next class he said "Secondly, I have some respect for women, she may be a mudblood but no one should never be subject to that. I thought you would understand that, Parkinson, maybe even appreciate it."

"I suppose he's right about us, she shouldn't have been able to have that power over us," Goyle agreed. _Oh how very melodramatic Goyle… no one can help but find her attractive and you're here talking about 'power' as if your lust could destroy the Death eater movement._

After huffing to herself, Pansy's scowl was undone with a charming (and fake) smile from Draco.

As he walked along, he mulled over him and Granger.

Just imagine what they would think of him if they knew the truth. Imagine what they would do, not just to him, but to her.

That thought was what kept him away from her that night in the library. That thought was what had caused him to leave Hermione Granger. He had lost one of the few real relationships he had ever had - but it was worth it to keep her safe.

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**Again thanks for reading! Fave or review because it helps me get chapters written faster. Also let me know if you don't like these fun facts, I literally just do them to explain the holes in my writing!**

**FUN FACTS:**

**1) Veritaserum is only described as being odourless but I figured that because it needs to mature for a certain amount of time then before its maturation period it may have a scent. I just needed an excuse for them to get close so he could pour some potion on her to be completely honest, and I wasn't going to have Draco trip. In my head he is too suave and carries himself too well for him to be clumsy. **

**2) Rons hex was NOT out of jealousy. In this story there will be no Romione, not even hints at it ever being existant. There will be no Ron-hate either sorry. Also, I wanted to show the friendship, and the way the trio protect and care about each other, to show how difficult this would be for Hermione. Gosh, there's just so much angst.**

**3) I know I stray from canon in the fact that Slughorn should not be here in Fifth Year. But oh well, I needed a teacher who was sympathetic to Hermione and wanting to unite the houses. That certainly was not Snape. Also I know Ron's relationship with Brown only begins in Sixth Year, but I assume that she probably showed an interest in him before Sixth Year given that she was all kinds of crazy about him. **

**4) I tried to show Hermione was uncomfortable about her shirt, but also wanted to get at the idea that she would not cower. While it was wrong for her to have to feel unsafe and uncomfortable, we all know Hermione is a raging feminist and would not feel shame at having herself exposed and would not accept being sexualised. She would probably just be annoyed that it wasn't by choice. **

**REVIEW , FAVE, FOLLOW! Thank you all so much!**


	6. The Shrieking Shack

**Author's Note: I really don't think I am ever going to be happy with anything that I post, so here we are again... I hope you like it though.**

**Thanks to those who have reviewed, the readers of this fic are fab! I'm gonna be that person again and ask you to fave, review and follow if you enjoyed it!**

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She still hadn't returned Draco's jumper and everyone went home for the Easter holidays tomorrow. She lay spread out on her bed, exhausted, with Ginny Weasley curled up at her feet. They had both just finished their last classes of the spring term and were lying in comfortable quiet in Hermione's dormitory, neither of them awake enough or needing to think of unnecessary conversation to fill the silence.

The other Gryffindor fifth year girls had gone down to the Common Room. Lavender Brown had gone to say goodbye to everyone as she was returning home for the week and Patel, Hornsby and Polum went down to play some Wizard chest.

As Hermione began to drift towards a far off dream, away from the war into that hazy place, her journey was cut short by Ginny's voice. "'Mione, are you coming tomorrow?" the girl asked, unusually drowsily for the fiery red-head who was usually first to yank Hermione by the hair into ridiculous and exciting situations. She heard her friend's exhaustion and boredom, and although she was previously planning on blowing off the secret meet up tomorrow, she found herself nodding slowly and mumbling her confirmation.

Yes, apparently Hermione had agreed to the outing which all of her friends were going on. They had all agreed to meet up in the Shrieking Shack, after realising in third year that it was not in fact haunted, as the rumours had suggested. Finally having convinced their mates that it had long since been abandoned, Harry and Ron believed there was nothing else to do but head down there with Fire Whiskey and have a laugh. She was sure they were breaking about fifty school rules, but recently she had been feeling especially empty… and her response to emptiness was going to be to get her adrenaline pumping. It seemed the only solution with Draco ignoring her; the boy who usually got her blood pumping and her heart fluttering.

Ginny sat up on her knees and pounced towards Hermione, losing energy in the middle of her leap and flopping on top of her. The two girls giggled as Ginny rolled onto her back, lying next to Hermione and staring up at the scarlet and gold tapestry draped over the bed. The two girls just lay like that for a while, in the ease of the moment, and then Ginny said "Thanks, you're the best you know."

It wasn't a confidence thing, Hermione knew Ginny had enough confidence. Perhaps a bit too much sometimes, Hermione chuckled, as she thought of her tearing down her brother's arguments against her playing Quidditch and the bold way she flirted with boys with a one hundred percent success rate. No, the issue was that she would have felt guilty about leaving Hermione. Ginny had told her earlier that she would rather stay in the Common Room with her, but Hermione knew Ginny would like it even better if they went to the Shrieking Shack.

So yet again Hermione was dragged into another one of her fellow Gryffindor friends' hairbrain schemes to get them expelled, but this time she was completely apathetic towards it.

She would usually be nervous, scared, annoyed, irritated, exasperated or at least a little excited. But she couldn't find the strength to be. And it was because of that stupid boy.

Ginny stared over and saw a distance in her best friend's eyes as Hermione sighed quietly. Ginny was waiting for her to buck up the courage to tell her what was wrong or just waiting for Hermione to need her. She would wait, but she was becoming increasingly worried about her friend and that faraway look she was getting more and more recently. This wasn't just the war. No, that was a different kind of damaging, which Hermione had been experiencing since her entrance into the wizarding world. No, this recent change was heartache, Ginny was sure of it.

She planned to study Hermione over the holidays when she and their fellow Gryffindors would be staying at the castle. Ginny felt like she needed to help and was tired of being incapable of it.

For now she was just exhausted. Just as Ginny thought this, Hermione spoke.

"Well we probably should be getting some rest for tomorrow. It sounds like we'll be out all night," she muttered. She felt the weight of her friend leave the mattress as Hermione rolled away and made her way across the room to her shared bathroom, and then half-heartedly joked, "Godric save me."

Ginny took that as her queue to leave, and planned to find her twin brothers instead of going to her dormitory to sleep like her friend advised. Regardless, Hermione looked ragged and sleep deprived, so she hopped off the bed and out of the room leaving Hermione to her thoughts.

* * *

Draco sat on the firm, large couches of the Slytherin Common Room which was candle-lit and now almost empty, except for Draco and his year group. The air in the dungeons had a bite to it, as the chill always seeped around the room seeing as they were underground. His arms draped over the back of the chair as he watched his friends circled around the table, watching Zabini and Goyle play wizards chess. He held a straight face even when the others flinched at the sound of smashing china, at a pawn being destroyed by a knight.

Even though he had planned to return home, his parents had told him to stay at school. The Dark Lord had plans for Lucius and he had begun work on them, so his mother had insisted that Draco stay at Hogwarts during the holidays to avoid his involvement.

He had sent her a terse reply about the fact his freedoms are seriously restricted at school and he finds it extremely damaging to his mental wellbeing having to stay in a school full of blockheads, blood traitors and mudbloods. He felt a sting in his chest that the last phrase of his letter was the most dishonest thing he had ever said to his mother.

He had just wanted to get home, away from the Slytherin's who irritated him more and more these days, and away from Granger, because he knew he was at breaking point. If he saw her anymore, she would confuse his loyalties even more severely than she already had. That was certainly not okay.

Even if they irritated him, they were the closest thing he had to friends and he wasn't going to sit in this dank castle all holiday long. He might as well ask them, even if he planned on going by himself regardless.

"Boys, I was thinking of going to the Three Broomsticks tomorrow?" Malfoy asked uninterestedly. Hopefully if he didn't seem interested they wouldn't bother going.

"I'm up for it" Crabbe said, and the rest of the boys nodded along. With no regard for the school rules, they agreed with him. All they ever did was agree with him, and with their parents. They didn't question anything. Malfoy found them exhausting.

"What do you expect us girls to do while you're all gone?" crooned Pansy, obviously expecting an invitation.

He hadn't even thought about inviting the Slytherin girls but now they were all looking at him, and they were a formidable group. He was not going to piss them off.

"Of course, you girls are all welcome" Draco added, extending the invitation to the four other girls and Pansy. Well this just became a whole lot more effort than previously expected.

That night he lay in his room dreading the trip to Hogsmeade tomorrow and wondering why he had even bothered in the first place. He had got himself into this mess and now would have to spend a night out pretending to be enjoying himself… and pretending to enjoy yourself was a lot more exhausting than actually enjoying yourself. One of the few things he enjoyed these days was Hermione. Why did he enjoy riling her up and arguing with her? How could he want to protect her and be intimidated by her at the same time? How did that work? Arguing with her seemed to be the only thing that he very actively took part anymore, and as he drifted off to sleep, he kept questioning, why her?

* * *

She and Ginny were sitting next to each other in a circle of her fellow classmates, cross legged on the layer of dust and dirt which covered the Shack's floorboards. She had seen the others shudder as they entered the shack, eyeing the torn wall paper and clawed furniture as they all filtered in. Hermione, Harry and Ron were easy enough while moving around the place, knowing that Remus no longer transformed here on full moons. Harry sat down comfortably, and cracked open a bottle, so everyone followed his example as he handed round drinks. People there were those in her year apart from Ginny. All the boys were applauding Neville who had been dared to kiss Luna. She had promptly grabbed him and kissed him when he had asked so adorably whether he could.

Neville was the perfect gentlemen but his fellow Gryffindor boys could not claim the same. They were all nudging, wolf-whistling, jeering…Hermione just rolled her eyes while Ginny looked on exasperated with their behaviour. They may have smuggled quite a lot of firewhiskey into the Shrieking Shack but that was no excuse to act like animals. When Luna and he had moved away from each other, blushing, Neville looked rather dazed as he collected his winnings, having completed his dare. Trying to refuse the money being thrown his way, Luna joked that if he didn't take it she would, lightening the mood again with her offhand comment.

They continued talking amongst themselves, sharing laughs, betting and daring. No mention was made of the war. They all conveniently forgot it. To be fair, Hermione thought, it's understandable that for one night they just want to pretend that it isn't happening. That it isn't real.

But it was real. She had needed to surround the Shack with major defensive spells and shields and they all had their wands at the ready, in preparation for an attack. Even though no one mentioned it, the fear it had brought into their lives was alive and lurking in the shadows, reminding Hermione that there were people dying and they were all just sitting here like stupid kids and letting it happen.

She knew she couldn't do anything about that, but she didn't exactly have to be happy about it.

She didn't want to be morbidly depressed about it either though, which led to her joining in with the excessive drinking games and actually beginning to enjoy herself when Seamus, who was sat between Dean's legs, dared Hermione to kiss Ron.

She jolted and sat up straight, clearly uncomfortable with the suggestion. Ron was equally so, shouting off the jeering crescendo and declaring that they were "just friends, bloody hell, be quiet you lot!".

She relaxed slightly, but then Seamus upped his dare and said "Five galleons says you won't kiss Ron." He had only just won those five galleons for himself and he would never bet that much unless he was absolutely certain that she hated Ron (which she obviously didn't) or certain that she was adverse to any kind of romantic interaction, or just plain inexperienced? There was absolutely nothing wrong with not wanting to kiss a boy, and nothing wrong with not kissing Ron, absolutely nothing. But she _had_ kissed people. Why was this a concept that the Gryffindor boys seemed unable to fathom? Hermione Granger and attractive didn't seem to go well together for any of them, they preferred to ignore it completely. She was thankful that they weren't objectifying her, but denying any ability she had to be attractive was downright insulting, and not to mention problematic. They had boxed her into the stereotype of the nerdy girl, and so didn't want to recognise her as good-looking. She wasn't her own person. They had categorised her and she was confined to a type.

But Hermione was not one to conform, and she grinned at the thought of making them uncomfortable.

Smirking to herself, she looked at Seamus challengingly and strutted around the edge of the circle and sat down next to Ron. The room had gone still, the only noises heard being the creaking of floorboards and the howling of the wind outside. Everyone was slightly in shock and unsure of how to react.

She turned to Ron and looked at him, and he stared back at her apprehensively. Ron began stuttering, "Look 'Mione, it's not that you're not great or anything but-"

"Don't be stupid Ron," she chided, "You know I'm not interested, you've literally just heard Seamus dare me. But I really want those galleons, we could split our winnings?" Hermione muttered this quietly in his ear.

Ron grinned at her, suddenly feeling a whole lot more comfortable.

"Deal" he nodded, as the hoots and teasing jokes rose in volume around them, with their friends not realising their private conversation was in fact completely based on cheating Finnigan out of his money.

Then Ron leaned forward and kissed her. The room went silent for a second and then there was an uproar of cheers and laughs and jokes sent their way. There were even a few exclamations of "finally!" but Hermione ignored this as she inclined forward in an uncomfortable lean.

This kiss could never affect their friendship. However nice it was, that's all it was. Nice. The fact that she was aware of her surroundings and able to focus on what her fellow Gryffindors were doing and saying, and not utterly overwhelmed by the moment, indicated this. It was just nice. He had big, soft lips which were comfortable… and not impassioned at all.

As she pulled away she shouted down the noise, "Oh shut it you lot!"

She held out her hand expectantly to Seamus who still looked shocked, and waited as he reluctantly dropped the wizarding coins into her hand. "Thank you Seamus" she said smugly, as she dropped half of the coins into Ron's hand and high-fived him jokingly.

"Well my work here is done," she announced, getting to her feet and striding back across the circle to Ginny, who just cocked her head at her friend's antics.

Snuggling down into her spot again, crossing her legs and picking her drink back up, she watched as the room's separate conversations restarted in small huddles and she began to zone out. Then Dean's voice cut through the noise and grabbed her attention from across the cold, dark room.

"So how was Ronald, for your first proper kiss?" Dean said in jest as he wound his arms around his boyfriends stomach. Seamus smiled at him, thankful that Dean knew how much he had wanted to ask that question.

"What makes you think that was my first, Thomas?" she raised an eyebrow, while smirking as all of the Gryffindor's jaws dropped wide open, and Seamus practically choked on his drink.

"Pecks on the lips don't count, love," Dean replied.

"So what constitutes as 'proper'?" she teased, rolling her eyes.

Ron's chuckle interrupted as he said "I'll confirm that I definitely wasn't her first." The side of her mouth quirked up at the compliment as everyone else's eyes grew wider.

She didn't realise she had gained a good-girl image to the extent that the suggestion she had kissed someone sent shockwaves through her group of friends. She just didn't want anyone in her business and Harry and Ron went squeamish whenever she went near the subject of fancying someone. _If only they knew_, she chuckled to herself knowingly.

Leaving them all slightly bewildered, she began a game of truth or dare, because what else was there to do at a get-together with fellow teenagers. Following Seamus' example, she dared Lucy Hornsby to kiss Harry (although she almost hit herself when she saw Ginny's head drop). They did, although Harry hadn't seemed especially excited at the prospect and then Lucy dared Seamus to moony them all (which he did rather shamelessly). He then dared Longbottom to kiss Jessica Polum, who refused, only half-joking when she said that he was "Luna's man for the night".

"Alright then love, forfeit means you have to take a shot" Seamus ruled.

The night went on and the number of forfeits Hermione took were adding up because Seamus kept daring her to run around the streets of Hogsmeade naked. She was already pretty drunk when she realised that he had wanted her to refuse every time and have to take the forfeit. She had played right into his hands. _Oh well,_ she shrugged as she took another shot, she would never had said yes to running around in the nude anyway so her fate was sealed: she was getting very, very drunk tonight.

Harry finally dared her to do something reasonable, or perhaps it was only in her intoxicated state that it seemed reasonable. Either way, she took a final shot, for no real reason other than it felt like it was going to be needed. "You're on Potter," she accepted as she stood to face the challenge.

* * *

The evening was freezing. Draco saw his breath mist in the cold air as he stood alone outside 'The Three Broomsticks', leaning against the wall next to the door to the pub. He slouched and stuck his hands in his trouser pockets, contemplating how long he could stay outside before someone came to look for him. He had only just escaped from the Pansy who just was not getting the hint that he was not interested. She had insisted on sitting next to him as the Slytherins had gathered around a large table, and for the rest of the night had been very handsy with him. He was sure that her attempts at flirting would be welcomed by anyone else at the table but apparently she had her sights set on him and was not taking to for an answer. That was never okay in his opinion.

He had just needed to escape and clear his head. Sometimes the fact he was surrounded by people who hated muggleborns messed with his head, their ideas seeped into his mind like poison and debilitated his ability to think clearly.

Running his hands through his hair he stood up and decided he needed a walk. Meandering through the streets of Hogsmeade was therapeutic and the rhythm of his steps soothed his previously agitated figure. Turning a corner, and walking up between two rows of abandoned and derelict houses, he began to wonder how he would navigate his way back to his friends as his surroundings became more and more deserted and derelict. Apathetic as he was towards their night out, it would not do for him to be gone too long. As he reached the final house, he realised he had followed the road which led to the Shrieking Shack and shuddered at the stories he had heard about the place.

Turning back, his hands buried in his coat pockets and his jaw buried in his dark green scarf, he carefully started to make his way back to the bustling town of Hogsmeade which seemed much more alive than anything out here. The end of his nose had begun to chill and he was sure his cheeks were cold as ice.

But then he heard shouts from the Shack, and some whistles and even some laughs. It was haunted …but these noises didn't seem sinister enough to be the howls heard by nearby villagers. In fact, they didn't seem sinister at all.

Draco was deeply conflicted between his instinctive curiosity which told him to investigate, and his common sense which told him that braving the dangers of the Shack alone was not rational. So instead he settled for standing in the shadows of the wall of the nearby houses, observing the supposedly empty house and listening to the disorderly cheers from inside.

This definitely wasn't typical activity for the haunted building. Perhaps unknowing students had ventured in there and were putting themselves at risk of the dangers they faced in there.

Draco had just decided that he was going to intervene when he saw one of the previously boarded up windows being wrenched open. Watching carefully he saw a few students gather around the window. They didn't look particularly scarred by the dark spirits that were supposedly in the Shack. In fact they looked extremely happy. Happy to a point where it made Draco suspicious.

Then he saw a girl hook her leg over the window sill and move her body outside, moving from the darkness to the artificial light created by the street lamps outside. She began to lower herself down from the first floor window of the Shack, straining to find footholds in the rickety structure of the building.

He smirked to himself and tutted as he recognised the mass of curly hair the girl had, muttering with admiration; "Bloody hell Granger, you've got some nerve."

* * *

**Thanks for reading! I know not much happened but, as I hope you could tell, it's all leading up to the next chapter.**

**FUN FACTS:**

**1) Okay so I write stuff during the Marauders Era as well (a lot of it is on my tumblr) and a lot of it involves these kind of gatherings, where they do what normal teenagers do like drink and do stupid stuff that they will regret in the morning. I just kind of thought why wouldn't the current Gryffindors do it as well. I would've gone for having this all in the Room of Requirement but then that's no fun and Draco wouldn't have been around there and so that would make the whole point of the chapter redundant. Also, don't tell me the Slytherin's wouldn't have taken trips to Hogsmeade in secret cos they are sneaky buggers and Slughorn is the most laid back head of house. **

**2) The Ginny and Hermione friendship is so important to me. Girl friendship in general is so important and precious. **

**3) I know I said in the previous chapter there would be no Romione, and I stand by that. There was absolutely no implications that there was a romantic relationship between Ron and Hermione. If anything I made that clearer in this chapter. Sorry if you didn't like it but seriously, no Romione. None. **

**4) Seamus and Dean. Yeah they're a couple. Don't tell me they aren't super gay for each other. Just one of my ships casually thrown into this story cos I love them together and I ship it a bit too hard. **

**5) Don't place a bet on my girl Hermione. She will screw you over. She kissed Ron not because she was interested (as stated before) but also not just because she was indignant at basically being called frigid. She would've just waved that off because literally she does not care, she's been called so many names, what's another to add to the list. She does it to try and prove to the boys that a girl can be bookish and she can be beautiful, which I think is what JKR meant the character of Hermione to teach us. Can you tell how much I absolutely live for Hermione Jean Granger?**

**Let me know what you think of this chapter and/or what you think will happen in the next one? Thank you!**


	7. Coactum

**Author's Note: Tell me what you think about this chapter and what you think should happen. Also I came home drunk last night and wrote the last bit (it seemed like a good idea at the time), I edited it a bit in the morning but I'm just apologising in advance. Fave, review and follow!**

* * *

She clung to the old structure of the Shack as the violent Scottish winds threatened to pull her away and down. She rationalised that because the window from which she had descended looked smaller, that she was close to the frozen ground. Her heart constricted; she felt her chest seize up when she looked down. It was close enough to jump but a powerful gust of wind made her tighten her grip on the slats. She panicked and pressed her trembling body up to the comfort of having something tangible to support her.

When she said she wanted an adrenaline rush she did not, under any circumstances, imagine this. But this act of complete idiocy made her feel the same hesitance which had been so unfamiliar until Draco. The danger threatened by the wind was also provoking a brave side to her. Just like he did.

She could do this. She was Hermione Jean Granger. She locked her jaw in defiance of the gale and took a deep breath to prepare herself, then released her strained grip on the house. Falling through the air, her heart expanded in her chest, suffocating her with an onslaught of panic.

She felt a fleeting moment of triumph as she fell on her feet with a thud. Just as soon as she thought she had stuck the landing, she felt momentum tug her back and onto her backside. She fell in a crumpled heap, feeling an ache oscillate through her body. "So close" she hissed, kneading her sore back which felt like it was being licked by searing flames after her fall.

She stood uneasily and brushed off her clothes, turning to face the direction of the Village. This was so reckless, not to mention the fact it could result in an unfortunate situation for her. Perhaps it was the frigid air smothering her, but she felt unsettled. Almost like she was walking into a snare, as if she was about to be trapped like an animal being preyed upon. The hairs on the back of her neck stood as she felt a trickle of iciness travel down her spine.

She had a brief thought that being alone out here was terrifying. Haunted or not, the Shrieking Shack and its surrounding radius was still deserted, derelict and somewhat sinister looking. It was not a welcoming place. She knew to complete her dare she would have to walk down the street which neighboured the Shack.

She heard the anxious call from Ron, "Hermione, are you hurt?" She realised that she hadn't moved far enough away from the Shack for them to be able to see her. The large board for the window sill jutted out. This and the consuming darkness blocked her from their searching eyes. So she wobbled out of concealment to reveal herself.

"I'm fine," she waved off their concerns, "Though I must admit I'm beginning to regret agreeing to this." The howling winds stole her light-hearted joke; it never reached their ears. They shouted down to her, "You know we don't need to charm you, it doesn't seem right when you're going off on your own."

"But you need to know I did it! Look, just put a compulsion charm on me so I have to do it in a certain amount of time. Then you'll know I'll have done it."

"Yeah well if you return covered in boils of course we'll know you didn't manage it," said Harry with a chortle.

"We don't want to force you though 'Mione," added Ron, who always got overly protective of both Hermione and Harry.

"It doesn't force me though, you dolts. It just gives me the choice between doing it in a set amount of time and getting boils. And before you say it, yes I know normal spell work won't remove the boils. I'm not too bothered and Madame Pomfrey can remove them despite the permanency of the spell. Honestly, this was your bloody idea" she groaned with a tone of exasperation.

"Fine then," Harry said, still hesitant, "you ready?" She nodded then held out her arm. The spell had to be cast on a willing party, it wasn't a dark curse like the Imperius. It had fallen out of use due to almost no one having a situation in which they needed the charm. Yet it was perfect for drinking games and dares which needed a time limit so of course the Gryffindors had use for it quite often.

"Coactum." Harry murmured as a trail of whispy light rained from his wand and wound itself round her wrist. The link between the wand and the wisp severed but she could still feel the weight of the spell on her wrist- even after it faded and the magic sunk beneath her skin.

"Get a move on, you've only got 10 minutes on that spell!" Ginny shouted down, jolting Hermione into action. "I'll be right back, don't you guys worry" she said as she stalked away from the shack, swinging her arms and feigning confidence.

* * *

Now to her dare. For some reason she had thought that Harry's dare had been reasonable but now she understood just how unlucky she could end up being. She had now almost made it to the street closest to the Shack and began to ponder whether she could get out of the dare somehow. Those who hung around this area were likely to be no good; old followers of dark magic hiding in the desolate areas of Hogsmeade. So far it was not boding well, and she crossed the boundary from the territory of the Shack onto the pavement just before the road began.

"What the fu-" Hermione cursed as a cold vice-like grip furled around her hand and gave her a sharp tug to the side. A hand had been clamped over her mouth, stopping her from screaming. She began writhing and a waves of panic overcame her. Thrashing and violently lashing out she heard a grunt as she thumped the body in front of her she felt a twinge of hope. She had managed to stop her attacker's movement momentarily. She tried to quirk her head back and away from the cold clamped hand and bit down. Hard.

"What the fuck is wrong with you Granger," seethed Draco as he relinquished his hand. Realising it was Draco she immediately stiffened and stopped her violent erratic movements, no longer feeling in danger. He held the hand she had bitten in his other, scowling at her for what he thought was a completely uncalled for outburst of violence.

Even with his angry disposition, she felt a lot safer being out here with him than alone. She had felt herself shrink as she had begun her journey away from the shack and now she felt normal again. In fact it was the rising anger in her chest which made her feel a bit deranged and as a consequence, not as cautious and scared as she should be.

Along with the irritation was the temptation to just melt into him right there. He was only centimetres away from her and she could so easily breach the space that kept them apart. But she knew even if the physical distance wasn't there, there would still be a rift between them. Even if they could forget about every nasty thing they had ever said about each other and lose themselves in a kiss, it wouldn't be logical to act on her impulses. They couldn't insulate themselves in their own secret relationship. There was too much reality trying to encroach on them. Who even said she wanted a relationship? They were just impulses as she had said before, easily sated by anyone, not necessarily just Malfoy.

"More like what the fuck are you doing jumping me, Malfoy." Hermione bit back. She was angry. On account of her fearfulness to walk down the street every day and the fact as a Mudblood she would have to expect these kind of attacks. Her back was pressed against the wall of one of the abandoned houses and her warm flesh felt the shock of the cold. Her body trembled, and she didn't know whether it was a reaction to the chill or her previous panicked moment.

It seemed to dawn on Malfoy what she must have been thinking when someone grabbed her and dragged her into the dark on some dodgy street. _Shit, she thought he was going to hurt her. _

"I wasn't thinking…I forgot you would jump to that conclusion," Draco said, not knowing what to offer as an apology. It had happened now, what could he say to remove those moments of panic. Nothing. Draco trusted more in actions, a firm believer in the principle of 'actions speak louder than words'. With words having so little value, his comment came off as dismissive and uninterested. It sounded as though he was not really offering anything, only an excuse.

Hermione growled and wanted to lunge at him and claw the stupid cocky expression off his face. He didn't know what it was like to be vulnerable. He had no sympathy for her.

Being a girl she naturally would come to the worst conclusion when grabbed. But he couldn't even be considerate enough to not give her a heart-attack. Maybe he shouldn't just grab her like a bloody child-snatcher. _That would be considerate wouldn't it?_ But it wasn't in Malfoy's nature to be thoughtful- and she had to have chosen to kiss him of all people. _I mean really, what was she thinking? She wasn't._ She was sure of that now, glaring at his eyes which were full of mirth. Privileged idiot didn't understand what it was like to be targeted and helpless. She wanted to cry just thinking about what could of happened had it not been Malfoy.

The air shifted and he stepped back realising something was wrong.

But he didn't look away, he stared her down until she had to look up, feeling flames run over her cheeks as she blushed under his scrutiny. Gazing into his grey and confused eyes she knew he was just ignorant. That didn't excuse it but she couldn't blame him when he didn't know any different. Well she could hold it against him. But she wasn't going to because she felt the band of magic around her wrist tighten, warning her she had 2 more minutes until her time was up. Crap, she didn't have time to go further from the Shack. She needed to do it now and fast if she didn't want to fail.

She didn't take failure well, it was her Boggart after all. A superficial voice in the back of her head also squealed over the fact Draco may see her with warts all over her face if she didn't complete it. She grabbed the thought and forced it away where it couldn't interfere with her much more imperative thoughts.

A minute passed in contemplation and she saw the magic band on her risk glow. It shone and then tightened, to warn her she had a minute to complete the challenge.

Back at the Shack they would've seen a corresponding beam of white light from Harry's wand. Ron called "Hurry up 'Mione," sounding almost worried but more amused than anything.

He visibly angered, straightening his back and locking his defined jaw. The muscles tensed as he ground his teeth in anger towards Ron. She was so innocent and that irritated Draco. She was so unaware of his simmering anger over something which was so inconsequential to her, and that irritated Draco. He scanned her face, but only saw confusion in her big brown eyes. The flecks of gold in her irises held his gaze captive for a second until he composed himself and watched her.

Something was clearly troubling her and she had now looked in discomfort to her wrist twice now, the same wrist he had grabbed her with. He had sworn he had saw a faint glow coming from near her hand and thought it was a spell from her wand to hex him, but apparently he was imagining it. She was making her disgust with the skin he had gripped on her wrist obvious by looking at it so frantically.

He dropped his eyes to her lips and felt a tremor rattle through him. They were a bright pink colour, the kind of swollen that only occurred after kissing someone. Another guy. Draco never thought she wouldn't kiss other guys, it's not like he had any right to expect that of her. But he was angry nonetheless. Jealousy is the kind of anger that simmers, that eats away at your sanity as it consumes you. Draco didn't want to fester in his own envy.

Instead he very abruptly asked, "Been kissing someone Granger?" Her widening eyes and her skin blanching white and then blushing with with embarrassment confirmed his accusation. She was sure she was having a turn. _How did he know?_ Being confronted with the fact she had kissed Ron was an unpleasant one. She had never thought about the way news got round. The consequences of this would be dire and the Hogwarts rumour mill would make a story out of them by morning.

But more importantly, she was now standing with only half a minute left on the clock and a very irate Draco who she needed in order to complete her dare. _Bloody brilliant. She should have just accepted Seamus' dare, it was far less complicated than talking Draco out of a rage._

But then she thought, maybe she shouldn't talk him out of one then…

She grabbed his belt and yanked him closer to her, shocking him out of his temper momentarily. She then furled a hand around the back of his neck and pulled him down to her as she had done before, coaxing Draco's face closer to hers. She was almost there, she could feel the band of magic constricting as she counted down her last 5 seconds.

5

"Malfoy?" she said, rather huskily.

4

He looked up at her, and his eyes locked with hers.

3

She saw his expression harden towards her. He was furious. But behind that stormy grey there was that flicker of attraction she had seen that morning in the Muggle Studies classroom.

2

She braced herself and inclined her head up to him, pulling his face towards hers and coercing his body to move up against hers.

1

Their lips locked in a furious release of tension and she felt the weight of the band dissipate from her wrist.

* * *

About twenty minutes prior, in the Shrieking Shack, Harry had come out with the perfect dare for her. "I dare you, Hermione Granger, to find someone to snog in Hogsmeade." He then added with a mischievous wink, "Within 10 minutes… "

That subtle challenge had fired up her determined nature as Harry knew it would. She knew that he knew this, and still couldn't help but obey her innate competitiveness.

_She took a final shot, for no real reason other than it felt like it was going to be needed._

_"You're on Potter," she accepted as she stood to face the challenge._

* * *

She continued with her dare long after she really needed to. His hands gripped her hips and pinned her to the wall, but even then she knew he would have let it stop whenever she wanted to. But she wanted to. Godric, she really did. She continued to indulge herself in the kiss, tracing her hands down his chest. The kiss was passionate and his lips pressed against hers, subduing any qualms she could have voiced against this.

But just as soon as her mind became addled with bliss and she sunk into a content delirium, he tore his lips from hers. He was clearly fighting the urge to shout at her, but also seemed to be conflicted, swearing to himself as he shook his head. He stepped away and turned his back on her, touching his hand to his newly swollen lips. The tentative gesture was at first full of endearment, as he became confused about his continued interest in her when he had sworn her off after that Potions lesson.

She was like an addictive drug, he could go weeks without her, months perhaps, without his fix, but that didn't mean he didn't miss her with every fibre of his being. Even when he resisted it he missed this, perhaps that's why he needed to resist it so violently.

But this faltering touch of his lips only reminded him of hers, of her swollen lips and how they had been so before he had kissed her. They both heard a distant shout from Ron, "'Mione! You down there?"

"You should probably get back to your boyfriend." Draco said snidely. He immediately wished he hadn't as she flinched and he spotted the flash of pain in her eyes. She hung her head, not in shame, but in defeat. She couldn't win in this situation. He already knew about her kiss with Ron, and denying it would only serve to infuriate him further. But admitting it would also stoke the rage in his coal black eyes further as well.

"Malfoy I-" she began to divulge but he interrupted her, not wanting to have to hear the details of it all.

"Granger, spare me." He cut her off again, looking suddenly gaunt and uninterested, as if 2 minutes ago he wasn't kissing her senseless.

"No, you spare me your miserable attitude for once," she scolded as she glared up at him, piercing his marble façade with her glare. "Ron and I, we kissed for a dare."

He almost wished that each word she spoke about Ron was a dagger's point to his heart. The truth was better than he had expected. It was a dare, not out of lust or love. But it still hurt to hear. He didn't deal with emotional pain very well; his heart seemed to turn frosty.

Marble-hearted and fiercely angry, he growled "I'm not one to share Granger, you've served your purpose for tonight. Now run back to Weasel."

"Served my purpose? Are you kidding me Malfoy? Ron's my friend. Not that it's any of your business, but that's all we are. I didn't realise I had any role or purpose in your live as you refuse to acknowledge muggle-borns as people in front of your adoring friends."

"I don't want you to have a role, you bint. You grabbed me remember?" Draco said as he rolled his eyes.

"Yeah well it takes two to tango" Hermione muttered, the energy radiating from her rage still crackling around her.

Draco's mask shattered momentarily as the idiom puzzled him, "What does that even-"

"It means it took two people just then. It's a muggle saying, it just means it takes two, okay?" she sighed. Trying to make it clear she had fast become exasperated with the situation she looked at her shoes, shuffling her shoes around and looking beaten.

"Look, I didn't want you to get the wrong idea," but then she though about it and she had done nothing wrong. The sarcastic bite in her tone was obvious as she scoffed, "I'm going back to '_my boyfriend'_ now."

She stormed away from him, in a chaotic frenzy of irritation and indignation. _How dare he?!_

But she only made it a few steps when for the second time that night she felt a tug on her wrist pulling her to him. She resisted it, pulling away from him.

"Oh no, not so fast," Draco commanded, and she immediately conceded, being drawn back by his magnetism. The authoritative tone in his voice made her turn to face him despite the protests from a voice inside her head. "There's no way I'm letting you back there without this."

He backed her up against the wall again and pinned her there, putting his hands up against the wall either side of her head and leaning in close. Too close for Hermione, whose breath caught in her chest as she refused to move in case her body betrayed how much she wanted to kiss him again. His platinum hair was ruffled from their previous kiss, and she loved the fact her fingers had dishevelled his usually composed appearance. Her fingers had run through his hair and he looked wilder, especially so with that dark glint in his eyes.

"Without what?" she snarled.

"Just shut up, Granger" he said, quietly and almost teasingly. His eyes travelled over her face. Draco decided he needed to make her his. He kissed her then. He curled his fingers into her hair, mussing the already chaotic curls making her look thoroughly ruffled. Meanwhile he nipped at her lips, sucking and pressing to make them rosy and plumper. Those lips were his and he would send them back into that Gryffindor lair knowing the lions would all see she had enjoyed a very thorough snogging session.

"Mm, wait- Draco- wait why-" Hermione continued to rattle on, pulling back between kisses to question him. Almost overwhelmed she tried to force the questions out but was distracted by his interruptions.

He mumbled against her lips "Can you never just shut up and let it be for once Granger?"

He trailed kissed along her jaw and nipped at her neck leaving bruises to brand her. She was his. No one else would know it was him but they would know she had someone. He just hoped that would be enough.

She tilted her head to the side and breathily continued her interrogation. "Draco, why the sudden change? You looked ready to kill a second ago."

Overwhelmed by her scent and losing himself in her kiss again, he pulled back and responded with closed eyes, still placing kisses over her skin feverishly. In his disorientation a confession slipped out; "I didn't want to leave us like that."

He continued to kiss her, unaware that her mind was reeling from his accidental admission. _What does he mean 'us'? What does he mean like that? What is 'that', we're always on bad terms? What just bloody happened?_

But even in her hesitance, she returned his kiss. She couldn't help but respond when it so obviously worked between them. When the chemistry was so easy…

She could now hear shouts coming from the Shrieking Shack and she could tell her friends were worried. They would send out a search party soon and she didn't want them finding her in another interesting predicament with Malfoy.

Ending their brief engagement with each other, she ducked under his arm and turned to grin back at him. She shivered as she lost the warmth of his body surrounding her, and she longed for him if only for the warm comfort he provided. His eyes almost pleaded with her behind their aggravated and possessive grey. She reassured him with a smirk that Salazar himself would have been proud of, "It's not even a competition. You have absolutely _nothing_ to worry about with Ron."

* * *

**Just wanted to say:**

**1) 'Coactum' is a spell I made up. It means compulsion in Latin as in to urge or drive someone to do something.**

**2) Jealous Draco was really fun to write, I feel like he's possessive and jealous because he doesn't want Ron to take another thing away from him. When Harry first rejected Draco's offer of friendship it was because Ron was already friends with him (and cos Malfoy was a jerk but whatever). He's clearly quite scared, deep deep deep down, that Hermione will choose Ron as well in the end.**

**3) Kissing scenes are hell to write so fave, review and follow to give me the motivation to write more!**

**Thanks for reading!**


	8. The Wooden Bridge

**A/N: Sorry the update has taken so long, writer's block struck again and guess what? I'm not at all happy with this chapter again but I can only delay posting it for so long... This is a bit of a slow chapter, kind of a filler but I hope it's alright and you can stick with it! After the next chapter I may have to take a break from writing this fic because I have exams which I need to revise for. Fave, review and follow if you enjoy!**

**Just a reminder: Previously, Ron has been struggling with Lavender's interest in him, and asked Hermione how to get out of it. She told him to say he was interested in another girl and to suck it up. Hermione and Draco kissed outside the Shrieking Shack while she was completing a dare, and Draco got jealous because Hermione had kissed Ron for a dare. More kissing ensued and Hermione assured him he had no competition with Ron.**

* * *

By the next week, Draco had dropped her again.

It was the Sunday which marked the return of those who had gone home to their families for the few weeks of holiday. She could hear her school friends arriving, with squealing and shouting from the common room, and thuds as girls and boys alike tackled their friends to the floor. Hermione was reading a book on her bed, busying herself so she wouldn't have to join in the trivial reunions, deciding she was in too foul of a mood to be nice to anyone at the moment.

She was startled when a trunk was apparated into her room and landed on Lavender's bed. Now everyone had arrived back at Hogwarts the house elves were transporting luggage upstairs. The sudden appearance had alarmed her for a second and she groaned, sure that the shocks of the wizarding world would give her heart problems one day. This just made her more disgruntled as she muttered, "Oh sure, you can get her case to the correct room but not mine or Malfoy's." She grit her teeth while seething over her book, wanting to tear out all the pages and burn it in the Common Room fire.

There was nothing wrong with the book of course, she was actually enjoying it but her frantic thoughts kept interrupting the narrative. She couldn't stop thinking about how much she regretted her meeting with Malfoy at the beginning of the Easter holiday. _What was wrong with her?_ She certainly didn't feel any qualms about her actions and the thought of their kiss made her giddy. So what the hell?

Whenever their kiss popped into her mind she felt heat crawl up her cheeks and all over her body. Screwing her eyes shut she let out a groan of frustration and then opened them and continued to read. This process was repeated one too many times and when she had had enough of it. She placed her book on the table next to her bed, changed into her pyjamas and drew the curtains around her four poster bed. If she couldn't read to distract herself then the last resort would have to be falling unconscious. Merlin help me.

But as she lay there, the thoughts still festered in her brain and forced her to think about it. How was she going to act around him now? Why had she given his already massive ego such a boost? She wanted to flail her limbs around in a fit of embarrassment and anger as she thought Oh my Godric I am such a moron!

She couldn't take her constant milling over ideas nor her obsessive thoughts over what she should have done. She especially couldn't face her inner turmoil over what exactly motivated her to kiss him… again! She didn't have to think this through, she didn't need him and when she woke up she would get up and get on with her life. Drawing back the curtains at the side of her bed, she opened one of the draws and rummaged around in the bottom. She lifted up the vial and examined it carefully, then once sure that it was Dreamless Sleep Potion she downed the lot. Her head hit the pillow a few seconds later, allowing her to escape from her black hole of despair and embarrassment for a few hours.

* * *

What she didn't witness however was the commotion in the Common Room downstairs. Lavender Brown returned from her holidays and ran at her roommates, bundling them into an enthusiastic hug. Patel, Hornsby and Polum all giggled as their friend recounted her time at home and how bored she was without them.

Lavender's eyebrow quirked in confusion when her friends all looked at each other nervously as she gushed over Ron. In Lavender's experience that was a sign something unfortunate had happened. And by unfortunate she meant something that would make her either really angry or sad. When they all then immediately looked at the floor she became suspicious. She continued to talk about her holidays and their holidays as though she hadn't noticed; as if she was still gleefully oblivious to their edginess.

Out of the corner of her eye she saw a mop of ginger hair. All the other girls turned to look at Harry Potter, the Boy who Lived but her eyes rested on Ron.

She might as well go and talk to him, she told herself, insisting that it was only polite. Gathering all her courage she finished her gabbling and excused herself from her friends. She then strode over to Ron, hoping he would give her a warm welcome back to Hogwarts.

The other girls all looked at each other. Parvati just sighed, "She's going to be murderous when she finds out Hermione kissed him."

* * *

She threaded through the crowd, both younger and older students sweeping out of her path when they saw the temper she was in. Her hair bounced as she stomped, her arms clutched around a pile of books at her chest as her robes billowed out behind her. She was marching down the crowded corridor to her next class and actively ignoring the wailing of her name from behind her. She was a formidable sight. It was now two weeks after the Easter holidays and the atmosphere in her dormitory had been tense.

She had woken up the Monday of the new term to an overwhelming and almost painful amount of light. This was because Brown had pulled back all the curtains surrounding her bed with a vicious tug. Hermione had tried to roll over onto her front and bury her head under her pillow but then she heard a hiss. Lavender was still standing over her bed.

"What now, Brown? Can't you see I'm still sleeping!"

The girl standing over her seemed to deflate, anger submitting to a pained look on Brown's face.

"You kissed Ron" Lavender whimpered. Hermione saw the fight being taken out of her as she spoke out loud what she had been trying to deny for the last 10 minutes.

Her roommates had woken Brown up especially early that morning. She had reacted similarly to Hermione; not at all amused by the premature wake up call.

But then they had told her that Hermione had kissed Ron, and she had shattered with a heart-wrenching sob. "But he doesn't even like her?" and "But he was looking at me last night in the Common Room, not her!" were some of her many protests. Even she had to admit she sounded pathetic, but she couldn't help it. Lucy Hornsby made many excuses for Hermione.

"Look Lav, she only did it 'cos the boys wound her up, and neither of them seemed affected by it at all."

"But she knows I like him!" Lavender simpered. Her friends were surrounding her, sitting on her bed and stroking her hair in comfort.

She shrugged and shook her head apologetically as she disagreed. "Um no... she doesn't, not with all the time she spends with Potter and him." Lucy looked to her friends desperately for them to back her up.

"It's not like she sticks around to gossip with us. Either way it doesn't matter 'cause I'm pretty sure it's platonic," Jessica Polum added.

Slightly comforted, Lavender sniffed and rose from bed. The other girls moved to their own bunks watching her cautiously, knowing their friend could be mental sometimes. They saw her gather her clothes, brush her teeth, wash her face, tie her hair up and walk back out of the bathroom smiling. That's when you knew something was wrong…

"Lav, what are you going to do?"

"I'll just confront her about it," Brown grinned with an almost crazed look on her face.

So Hermione had woken up to a silently fuming Lavender who was doing her best to play off her resentment as mere curiosity. This didn't convince Hermione one bit but she heard Lavender repeat the accusation, "You kissed Ron."

Shooting her head off of the pillow, her eyes widened and her back stiffened.

"How do you know?"

She looked over to her other roommates who were avoiding her eyes.

Such snitches.

"How many people have you told? For Godric's sake you must have known I wouldn't want that to get out!" Hermione shrieked, leaning to her bedside table for her wand. She was going to hex these girls until they were barely recognisable.

"We just thought Lavender should know, that's all!" Parvati defended herself, and gazed across the room to her wand lying on the window sill. She would never make it in time and Hermione would have her wand drawn on her as soon as she moved.

Confused, Hermione shrieked, "Why the bloody hell would she need to know?!"

Thinking fast, Parvati tried to question Hermione to distract her. "Look we haven't told anyone else, and why would you mind people knowing anyway?" making Granger pause before hexing.

"Because we are both so uninterested in each other and this will fuel the rumours that are already around!"

"Bloody hell calm down, I just said we didn't tell anyone else!"

Hermione calmed, lowering her wand, still secretly hoping to be able to carry out her threats. She just needed a small push over the edge and she would pounce.

But she hadn't received it yet.

Lavender had moved away from her bed and smiled, "Sorry Hermione, I just really like him. I know you didn't know but I do."

Hermione faltered and realised that she had known. Ron had told her in Potions that Brown had a thing for him. She had completely forgotten, or completely disregarded it. Now she felt awful, the guilt washing away her hot temper as a sheet of cold remorse hit her. Feeling too weak to admit the truth and cowering at the idea of people thinking less of her, she instead went along with it.

"I'm sorry, if I'd have known…" Hermione muttered.

Soon the girls' dormitory was back to normal, forgetting the tension at the beginning of term.

Well, all had been forgotten until now. Now, a fortnight later Hermione ducked into her classroom to avoid the screeching of Lavender behind her. Luckily she had ditched her in the sea of students, and was now able to storm over to Ron and Harry. They saw her approaching and Harry nudged Ron's elbow, as if to warn him of the impending storm.

"Ronald, what were you thinking?!" Hermione whispered viciously, standing in front of their desk and towering over the ginger boy. "Well?"

"I can explain-"

"Hurry up, I don't have all day. Lavender Brown is trying to kill me off." she snapped.

"Okay, so you know that Potions lesson you told me to say I liked someone else?" Ron asked, shying away from her growing fury.

Ron had told Lavender that he liked Hermione. She had known from the moment Brown had glared at her at the breakfast table this morning.

"Tell me you didn't Ron!" Hermione whined, "Why did you do that?! I have to live with her!"

"I didn't mean to, it's just I kissed you so it seemed realistic and everyone expects it anyway…I'm sorry 'Mione I just panicked."

"I meant for you to say another girl, anyone but me! I don't want to deal with this right now," Hermione scowled.

Her friend looked positively terrified and his facial expression almost made her laugh. Almost. She couldn't be angry with him. He was such an idiot but she guessed it was karma for even suggesting laying the wrath of Brown on another girl.

Her laugh had made Ron wiggle in his seat, clearly nervous and uncomfortable, thinking she was about to strike. "Alright Ron, I won't deny it so that she stays off your back, but next time just give me some warning. I woke up to my books charmed to thump me in the face. She's a bloody harpy."

Ron gave her a face-splitting grin, "You are truly brilliant 'Mione."

* * *

A hex shot past her ear as she increased her pace along the boards of the school's wooden bridge.

The fog seemed to rise from the valley below, floating upwards and clouding around the rickety wooden structure. A chill seeped through her clothes, because she thought, that even though it looked liked hot steam, the mist was deceiving. The roof of the bridge blocked out the sky which was dark with clouds threatening a downpour. As she hurried she could hear the beams below whining under the weight holding up the bridge, and the cross-bracing begging for release. The wind whipped her hair into her face and whistled as it moved through the arches of the overpass, slicing her face raw from exposure to the gale.

Her patience was wilting fast. She was trying to hold it together and not let her temper get the best of her but the hexes fired at her head weren't doing wonders for her tolerance. Not only was it not okay to hex people when their backs were turned but this cow couldn't even aim. She was walking fast but Hermione knew she was practically a sitting duck. She was walking in a straight bloody line, how bad was her attackers aim?

She got caught up in her thoughts about the girl's lack of technical skill in throwing hexes. It distracted her from the fact she didn't actually want any of them to hit. She would rather not end up in the hospital wing. She was just disturbed that this student was not going to be able to pass her Defence against the Dark Arts O.W.L.. She continued along the empty bridge, the fresh spring air nipping at her cheeks when she was hurrying along at such a high altitude.

She realised that no one would know if she turned round and ended this. If maybe she shrunk her aggressor into a jar, just like she had with Skeeter… that had shut her up. She felt her wand hand twitch but her mind insisted she had some semblance of self-control. Especially, she reminded herself, against an opponent who wasn't equally matched for her.

_That would not be fair. It would not be fair. You cannot just lash out._

Another shot of blue light skimmed her shoulder and she heard another jinx being mumbled behind.

_Don't turn round. Be the bigger person. Don't rise to it._

This time it was a curse, a vivid red trail soared past her.

_Oh sod it all._

"Lavender!" Hermione bellowed as she turned to face the girl who was hurrying down the bridge. About 20 metres behind, she was moving closer with every second.

Browns face was bright red. She was angry.

Who wouldn't be after hearing your roommate lied to you about being with the boy you liked? Hermione thought that she would probably be much angrier herself. But she knew without the guts to confront her feelings, she would have quietly simmered. That's why she really admired Brown. Unlike Hermione, she wore her emotions on her sleeve and was bold and blatant with her feelings; an open book.

Hermione couldn't even confront Malfoy about their… whatever it was they had.

"You said that there was no way! You said that you were just friends! You bloody well knew that I liked him and you went there anyways. You treacherous cow Hermione, you heartless, treacherous cow!" Brown screamed, her voice cracking with the effort of holding herself together.

This was awful.

Had Hermione realised how deep Browns feelings were she would have told Ron to suck it up and see if it worked out with Brown. The girl was devoted. But Hermione had thought that it was just a passing fancy, and had completely disregarded it.

There was a prickling feeling in her eyes as she thought about how horrible this whole trick of Ron's was.

How could she have ignored Brown's feelings like this?

Even if they were just teenagers or young adults, they still loved. Hermione had believed that they couldn't really understand it. Seeing Lavender so distraught she realised that teens sensed love more deeply than anyone. They loved in extremes, with more passion than possible and with no reservations. Strong love, and Hermione had shattered that for Lavender.

"I- I'm sorry. I didn't realise how much he meant," stuttered Hermione. She felt unable to voice her remorse for her stupid involvement in this stupid plan with that stupid berk. Her voice seemed to fail her when she wanted more than anything to speak, explain the truth and apologise.

"I told you and you ignored it!" shouted Lavender.

She whispered another incantation under her breath. A hex shot at Hermione, which Hermione noted was again off target. Reflexively, Hermione sent up a shielding spell, then lowered her wand again to try and negotiate with the hysterical girl in front of her.

"It just wasn't clear to me. But it is now so I wo-"

"It wasn't clear? _It wasn't clear_?" Lavender shrieked, her shrill voice piercing the air and rising an octave above its normal pitch. "Everte Statum!"

"Protego," Hermione spoke firmly, flicking her wand. The hex collided with Hermione's translucent shield, the impact causing the shield to pulse. The lazy wand work and lack of effort meant she really was losing all patience with this girl. There was no need to be throwing harmful spells at Hermione, and the effort Brown was making was pitiful.

"Please Brown, I don't want to fight you. Ron's not interested in me."

_That wasn't true. Hermione really wanted to start a fight._

"You're lying, you said that last time remember?" spat Brown as she grinned with a maniacal glint in her eyes.

Another hex and another shield erupted from each of the girls' wands.

"So what if I lied? I know I did, but me and Ron aren't together now," said Hermione, her voice wavering as she heard her rather shaky lie leave her mouth. She would have to inform Ron as soon as she got back to the Common Room… she just couldn't do it anymore.

"The point is that you still went there!"

Lavender attacked again and Hermione followed with a defensive spell. Anyone watching would be able to tell you how foolish Brown was being. Hermione was having a difficult time restraining herself from unleashing a torrent of hexes at Brown. Frankly, it was quite a feat that Hermione had controlled her wand so far, especially with a temper like hers. The only reason Lavender wasn't incapacitated yet was because of Granger's guilt. Even that was waning fast with each new insult and hex sent her way.

A series of hexes and shields moved between Lavender and Hermione. The former always on the attack and the latter gritting her teeth and deflecting them. This continued for the next few minutes, and Hermione couldn't get a word in edge-ways to apologise.

"Expelliarmus!"

The spell hit its target.

Lavender's wand was wrenched out of her hand and flew through the air where Hermione caught it in hers. The disarmed girl paled.

Her eyes widened and she braced herself, fearful of the oncoming hexes. The usually soft lines of Hermione's face had gone and were replaced by furrowed eyebrows, a jutting jawline and a scowl so sharp it was frightening. Hermione's lips were pursed and her eyes were in black flames, the fury behind them consuming her thoughts. Lavender knew that look.

"I have tried to be patient," Hermione growled.

After a deep breath in and out which didn't calm her at all, she continued, "I have apologised. I lied about Ron and I, but now we aren't together. I will not be apologising again. When I return your wand I advise you walk away because this duel has been child's play for me. If not I will have no reservations about stunning you."

Hermione watched the expressions of anger, shock and overwhelming fear flood Brown's face. But a second later her expression froze. Her eyes darted past Hermione's shoulder and then to her feet, down to the creaky boards of the Hogwarts bridge. Hermione thought this was to try and avoid eye contact with her. Her fellow Gryffindor had become noticeably more nervous. Less frightened of Hermione and suddenly more… agitated?

Hermione threw back her wand and saw her turn on her feet and hurry immediately in the opposite direction. A huge weight felt like it had dropped onto Hermione's shoulders now that she was alone. Without the fragile facade she had gluing her together in the presence of others, her fiery anger faded. She stared after the other girl and hung her head in her hands, covering her face and taking a few laboured breaths to calm herself. _How had she managed to catch herself in such a massive web of lies?_

After agreeing to Ron yesterday, the confrontation she had just had with Brown had been brewing. The news had spread around the school like wild fire and again she had holed herself up in her room apart from for classes and meals. Thinking about it now she had been a coward. This formed a sick taste in her mouth which was hard for her to handle. Sucking in the chilly morning air her throat felt constricted and her breathing was shallow. Oh bloody hell, she didn't belong in Gryffindor. _Where was this famous bravery everyone spoke of?_ Her muscles were taut. Everything felt a little like chaos, almost like an anchor was pulling her to the floor and she was falling apart at the same time.

Ending her brief moment of peaceful despair, she turned in the opposite direction to where Brown had just run and gasped.

There stood Malfoy.

In the spot where Lavender must have been looking to over Hermione's shoulder.

He must have heard her say she lied to Brown about not being with Ron…

And he looked murderous.

* * *

**Okay so I know there wasn't any Dramione but as I hope you can tell, the next chapter will have quite a bit of interaction.**

**FUN FACTS:**

**1) Lavender Brown is always described as a whiney cow, and Hermione may feel that about her but I tried to make her a bit more sympathetic. If you think about being a young teenager, if you liked someone it was the end of the world if they didn't like you back. Even if you don't empathise with that, she is loyal and clearly popular amongst her friends so I didn't want to pass her off as just another hysterical girl.**

**2) Draco thinks she lied to him about being with Ron, that's got to sting when you remember the last thing she said to him was "You have nothing to worry about." How do you guys think he should/ is going to react? Angry? Unaffected? Sad? Jealous?**

**3) The moping at the beginning may not seem like Hermione's style but I feel like we forget that in the books she moped over Ron for too long. Her hyperactive brain and her cringing at kissing Draco is more anger over giving that control in their relationship than anything.**

**4) Also, even though Hermione doesn't have that many girlfriends she isn't that type to betray her roommates. I hope I conveyed that she felt real remorse when she realised how much she had hurt Lavender.**

**Fave, review and follow!**


	9. Furnunculus

**A/N: This is my final angsty gift to you before I begin a long period of revision (and therefore stop writing). Hope you like it and let me know in a review if there's anything you want more or less of? Fave and follow if you enjoyed!**

* * *

_There stood Malfoy._

_In the spot where Lavender must have been looking to over Hermione's shoulder._

_He must have heard her say she lied to Brown about not being with Ron…_

_And he looked murderous._

He seemed to bare his teeth like a feral animal as he snarled, "Care to explain, Granger."

"Draco, you need to listen to me for a second. Calmly."

"So you can lie to me again? Really?" he growled. His robes billowed around his figure, hanging off his square shoulders and swirling around his frame. It was as though he was being engulfed in his own personal storm. It was just the movement of the wind travelling down the length of the bridge, because she felt her hair being slapped across her face. But it didn't stop him looking any less menacing.

"I didn't lie about me and Ron, we are just friends!" Hermione countered.

"I may not be Miss Know-it-all Hermione Granger but I'm not stupid, and I'm definitely not fucking deaf."

She felt that familiar twitch in her wand hand. She wanted to bind him right to the spot so that he could not escape her. This was an easy way out for him and he was dying to run from her. But she knew he was also dying for an explanation from her which could make it all melt away. Looking at his expression of loathing, she wanted to Incarcerous him right there.

"You might as well be deaf seeing as you aren't listening to me!" she yelled, throwing her arms out to her sides in exasperation.

Growling back, he replied, "You can't deny it! I just heard you say it-"

"I said that to Brown for Godric's sake, not you!" she exclaimed, exasperated with this argument already.

For a second Malfoy looked affronted. He didn't understand what relevance her having told Brown had to this argument. If she was trying to tell him to stay out of her private conversations with Brown then she could go and screw herself. He had every right to know, she had lied to him. The whole bloody school knew anyway.

"Everyone knows Granger, how did you think you would get away with it?"

"No you aren't listening," she said desperately trying to get him to see. "I just lied to Lavender, and the school is a rumour-mill Draco you have to see that."

That is the whole reason why he was up here on this lonely bridge having a screaming match with this trigger-happy witch. He had watched her fingers close around her wand many times during his accusations. Yet he couldn't bring himself to care.

His problem wasn't that she had gone off with Ron. He had decided after their last kiss that their relationship wasn't going anywhere.

His slip in control over his impulses had cost him this. His dignity.

It was in shreds and that was what had offended him. That was why he was here. Not to be forgiving and not to ask for an explanation. No, he wanted to reassert his control over this girl who seemed to be running rampant, stamping all over his belief system and now his ego.

"Yeah well there's no potion fumes without a stewing cauldron… You know what? I don't care for it being false anyway. You know it's true, I just want to know why you thought I wouldn't take this as an insult."

He didn't care for it being false?

_He didn't care for her either way, and my god she hated him for it._ She had spent too bloody long thinking about him when she was trying to study. She couldn't believe him. What a monumental twat.

It was Hermione's turn to be angry.

"I didn't cheat on Ron with you because there was no relationship with Ron. It was a rumour which got out of hand-"

"I don't care."

"Yeah well I care about you knowing the truth even if you don't care. Though that's a bit difficult to believe seeing as you marched all the way up here on your high horse," she snapped.

She was looking him straight in the eye.

She looked like a warrior. In that moment he looked at her and saw that the molten girl, who had melted under his touch so easily, had turned to iron. The way she clenched her jaw and the edge of her mouth twitched into a smirk made her look like she knew something he didn't. That was a frightening thought for Draco given that she was such a powerful witch.

But he reminded himself that she didn't know something he didn't.

She knew nothing and she didn't get to have the power. She had already made him second best to Weasley. Was there any greater insult? He wasn't even good enough for her to have as a toy or a plaything, she needed Ron for herself as well. That just proved her to have a greedy variety of lust which even he couldn't contain. The thought drove him mad and even if she and Ron weren't together any more… the point was that they had been.

"Look, I didn't know you were together. I don't give a flying fuck about yours or Weasley's feelings, I just don't want to be part of your games," he retorted calmly. He had lost all his anger having stopped thinking about it. The vivid images of Hermione laughing to herself or worse, of her with Ron, had faded as he went from rage to resignation. He pushed it to the side and shut it off, reverting back to the business of retaining the shreds of self-respect he had left.

"You aren't involved in any games! I may have kissed him for a dare once but that is the extent of our relationshi-"

"Well that isn't fair on him, or me for that matter!" he bellowed back. Shit. His interruption had not been planned. He had aimed to stay calm and wallow in resignation later. Granger was insatiable, even for him.

He had just wanted to make a final jab and be done with her but this witch infuriated him more than anything. His plans always went to shit anyway but he never expected to feel his heart burst and his thoughts erupt with such overwhelming fury.

Malfoy's fists were clenched at his sides and he stood a good few metres from her still. She was thankful for that distance now as she could feel tremors of anger pulsing off of him. She knew that if she was any closer to the core of this fury her confidence would have been knocked down by his crashing waves. She would have been lost in him.

But she wasn't. She wasn't lost in him at all.

He had just revealed a lot more to her than he had ever planned to and she could see it in his wide and slightly panicked eyes. He had slipped up. The deep tone of his voice had betrayed his jealousy and perhaps even a little of his hurt.

Instead of feeling joy at this hint of an admission of his feelings she just felt angry. Whatever the hell his problem was she was having none of it.

"ME AND RON WERE NOT TOGETHER! ME AND YOU ARE NOT TOGETHER! NEITHER OF YOU HAVE ANY RIGHT!" she roared. She paused and calming only slightly. She then continued shouting, "And regardless of that, Ron does not care about me and I do not care about Ron!"

Her hair had curled around her face and she pulled a strand away from her cheeks, tucking it behind her ear. Her expression was stony and her chest heaved with the effort of staying calm. But then she thought about another thing he had said and her temper reignited, "And fuck you! You don't know a thing about being fair! You hadn't spoken to me since our-"

She cut herself off abruptly realising she didn't know what to call it. Even more awkward was the fact that until now both of them had ignored mentioning that event. They had cautiously tiptoed around the topic, neither one daring to confront what they had done.

Their kiss.

In the silence, she could only hear the wind howling like a tempest in her mind.

Nothing passed between the pair and it felt like they were in their own globe, blocked off from the rest of the world. They were now trapped and forced to face what they had managed to ignore until now.

They had kissed each other.

It had been a choice they had made. Under the cover of dark it had seemed like going back for a second kiss wasn't such a bad idea, and that it could do no harm. But out here in the open the bright light was blinding, forcing them to acknowledge a secret which even they didn't want to have. They didn't want to have to keep it any more either.

She stared at his feet but then realised it looked as though she was looking at his legs. Her eyes darted up to his face as fast as possible but he hadn't missed her looking. His lips were pursed but his eyes were full of worry and agitation. He didn't know how to act either.

He was clearly anxious to forget about it. His reputation was on the line. His family name would be on the line if anyone found out. For the first time in years Draco Malfoy looked unsure of himself and she couldn't help but relish it.

The last time she remembered him looking so uncertain was in second year. As soon as she absorbed the flash of uncertainty in his grey irises her mind jumped back to her early Transfiguration lessons and lost itself in a pensieve of memories.

* * *

It had been their first lesson of the day. All the second years had marched in to the classroom, groggy and unprepared for the lecturing of McGonagall at such an ungodly hour. As they all settled into their seats there was a buzz around the classroom, a low hum of exchanging words. What was everyone so agitated about?

She turned back to talk to Harry and Ron and to ask them what the hell was going on. But she had found them turned away from her, in a large circle engrossed in conversation. She rolled her eyes. If even they were involving themselves it must have been something significant. Perhaps it was something sinister to go along with the other disturbing news of their second year. The enthusiasm with which they seemed to be arguing over this something led her to believe it was a different kind of information. Gossip; a type she had never bothered with.

So she waved it off and had opened a book on her desk, trailing her finger in lines over the page following what she was reading. _Carman is the Celtic goddess of evil magic._ She heard a surprised gasp from across the classroom and focused again on the print in front of her. _This destructive witch roamed around with her three evil sons: Dub ("darkness"), Dother ("evil") and Dain ("violence"), destroying anything or anyone in their path._ She heard another boy arguing against someone. Well at least one of them was still thinking logically, she thought. This was interrupted by the boys surrounding the Ravenclaw laughing rather too loudly. _Carman put a blight on Ireland's crops and terrorized the Irish until the Tuatha De Danann, the "peoples of the goddess Danu," used their magic to fight and defeat her, and drove her sons across the sea._ "That can't be true!" was the final loud exclamation she heard before becoming completely exasperated with the situation.

What the hell had gotten into everyone today?

She slammed her hefty book shut and gave up on her reading about Celtic mythology's demons. Turning in her chair, she hissed loudly at the two idiots who were staring at Parvati with their jaws hanging open. Patil was recounting whatever salacious tale was capturing the interest of these 13 year olds.

"Harry! Ron!" she hissed and their heads snapped back towards her. Their movement was so sudden she suspected they had thought McGonagall had entered the classroom and had overheard their gossip session. They weren't alone though, her sharp tone had caught the attention of the whole class who turned back to their conversations with more caution this time.

Seeing the time, people began to seat themselves and Hermione asked "What is going on?"

Harry and Ron began to blush furiously. Had she done something? For the life of her she couldn't remember whether she had scolded them this morning or not, but regardless this was unusual.

"It's something the older years said-" Ron mumbled.

"Well none of us really know if it's true, no need to look so terrified" Harry joked. Quirking an eyebrow, Hermione could tell he was just as nervous about whatever it was that had been said.

"Well what is it?" she demanded, her wide brown eyes a mixture of anticipation and anxiety. She felt her heart try to flutter but the fear of ominous news about petrified students stifled it and turned it to stone.

It sunk under its weight when she heard a different voice respond from across the classroom.

"Trust me Granger, you don't need to know"

"Sod off Malfoy," she retorted and then turned to her friends expectantly.

But Parvati took up her side of the argument. Being in the know she took what Draco had said as far more offensive than Hermione was able to, seeing as no one was ruddy well telling her what the whole year had been talking about. She now felt vulnerable, unable to argue back because she didn't know what she was defending herself against.

"Oh come off it Malfoy, as if you need to hear it either," Parvati sneered. She always managed to be rather more intimidating than it would seem possible for such a small and delicate child.

"Need to hear what exactly?" Hermione interrupted again. Would someone tell her? Preferably before she went mad trying to riddle it out.

But before either of the Gryffindor boys' could respond, an aggravating drawl punctuated the relative silence of the classroom.

"As a matter of fact, I know it's not true," he smiled.

The whole class tittered; it was as though this was sensational gossip. She was so confused. The Slytherin's confidence was on a high after inspiring a reaction from the class so he went for another jab at Hermione.

"She wouldn't know."

His sneer made her want to launch herself at him and pull them both over a cliff. She remembered how she had wanted to wrestle him into a headlock and make him apologise for whatever rude insult he had just paid her. But she hadn't been able to because, of course, she was still clueless about the situation.

This was not familiar territory for Hermione. She always did the prepatory reading, always had an answer for every question and if she didn't know anything she could just go and look it up in the library. But this wasn't something she could just leaf through volumes of textbooks to find, she needed to coax this out of people.

And she really hadn't been great at people or at gossip.

With a filthy glare over his shoulder at their nemesis, Ron turned back to her and said, "Fred and George and loads of other older students have been saying that when you... Erm well Dumbledore has charmed the school so that when you kiss someone," he leaned in awkwardly and whispered "you get boils all over, like a Furnunculus Jinx"

She straightened her back in shock, expecting that the whole class was playing a trick on her but the wide, unblinking eyes staring back at her indicated they were serious. They believed that kissing would give you boils. It was so illogical it was funny and Hermione threw her head back laughing, shocking the other second years with her blasé attitude.

Firstly, Hermione knew that none of Dumbledore's spells to prevent rule breaking would be allowed to inflict harm upon students. Regardless of that Dumbledore wouldn't use harmful magic anyway. As well as that, weeks before they had heard the older years boasting about their romantic conquests at the Quidditch victory party. Her fellow second years' minds were either like sieves or they were extremely gullible. It was likely to be both…

How did they think the older years had got round the blanket spell against kissing? The answer was that they didn't because it was non-existent. It was so obviously made up that she was giggling, clutching her stomach and having her laughing fit studied with looks of confusion and disapproval from her classmates.

"You do realise there is no way that is true," she finally let out.

A boy at the back of the classroom stated that because the Weasley twins were older they would know. Another girl agreed we should trust them and it was likely as it was against the rules. Soon everyone was making contributions and this descended into a hubbub of noise and shouting across the classroom.

She had cleared her throat and silenced everyone in a way only Granger could. "It's not true and that's evident if you think about it rationally."

"Why would we trust you? You don't exactly have an array of expertise in this area do you Granger" smirked Malfoy.

"Oh, and you do?" she scoffed.

"In fact I do."

"Well then you won't be concerned about demonstrating to the class that nothing happens when you kiss someone within Hogwarts walls. I mean with your _array of expertise_ it shouldn't be anything to worry about," Hermione jeered. She had coaxed Malfoy into a trap which he couldn't get out of. Not unless he forfeited his ego and his reputation, two things she was certain he would not risk.

His glare was piercing her from across the classroom. If he said no they would know he had lied. If he said yes, there was the risk of getting boils.

His scowl evaporated as a light bulb seemed to come on in his head, "There's no one else who would risk it, they're all too scared."

He looked round the room as Hermione waited for someone to volunteer themselves. It looked like no one was going to and she was going to lose this to Malfoy. He sneered in triumph. She rolled her eyes and turned back to the front of the classroom, accepting her defeat. She began mumbling bitterly to herself about 'sodding Slytherin idiots'.

The whole class stared at her and the Gryffindor's seemed agitated by the loss. Usually Hermione won. Even the Slytherin's seemed unsettled about gaining such a hollow victory.

But suddenly Ron had an idea.

Unfortunately, he spoke before he even thought about it.

"Hermione isn't scared, she'll dare to do it!" he grinned.

But a second later his smile shattered as he came to the damning realisation that he had just offered up his best friend to kiss Draco Malfoy. Hermione whipped round in her seat and growled, "I'm sorry what?"

Harry was almost wetting himself with laughter as he watched Ron flounder under her venomous stare, but soon contained himself as she shot him a similar look.

After the initial panic Malfoy had begun to amuse himself with the trio of Gryffindors who were quite a sight to behold. The fuming girl was sending a withering glare to her two male counterparts. Weasel seemed to be shrinking in a very un-Gryffindor-like manner and Scarhead was laughing at his expense. Or perhaps at Hermione's expense?

Heat had risen to her cheeks at the suggestion she kiss Draco Malfoy. She had physically cringed away from the idea, trying to swamp herself in her over-sized robes.

"All bark and no bite, I see," Draco had said as he quirked an eyebrow. He had just been taunting her, knowing she would never want to go there no matter how desperate she was to prove him wrong.

Well he had bloody well underestimated her hadn't he?

She smiled at the memory of his terrified expression as she had marched up to face him in the corridor between the rows of desks. He called her bluff walking to meet her in the middle, as though they were going to bow before duelling. Only this was a different sort of battle. One to see who could engage in this false display of confidence for the longest, and who would break first.

Glancing left and right to her classmates she realised they were waiting. They wanted to know whether they had been lied to. They looked curious, but even more so hungry for revenge on the older years who had deceived them.

She couldn't back out now.

So she looked ahead at the repulsively mean little boy in front of her. The thinned sneer he wore on his face warped his expression into a grotesque mask of hatred. His nose was sharp and pointed and his hair was slicked back in a way that would make anyone look gross.

She had to kiss him? _Really?_

How did she get herself into these situations?

Nervously she wrung her hands and realised that she had to look at the positives. His eyes would be kind of nice if not for the hatred which seeped into his expression. His lips weren't chapped, she was pretty sure that had to be a good thing. As she stared up at him she realised it could be far worse, she could have to kiss Crabbe or Goyle. At least Malfoy had half a brain.

And that's when she saw it.

Looking into those grey irises she saw a flicker of uncertainty.

It was the first piece of comfort she had ever taken from Draco Malfoy. It was with that look in his eyes that he acknowledged he was just as unsure as her.

Then she gave him a small comforting nod, clasped her hands behind her back and rocked forward onto the balls of her feet. He leaned in too and he pressed his lips up against hers.

They were surprisingly soft. Her lips had tingled against his and she felt an unfamiliar dizziness overtake her senses.

Disorientated, her eyes had fluttered closed. She had momentarily forgotten that everyone else was in the room. Everything seemed to revolve around their only point of contact; their lips, which had innocently grazed against each others.

A few seconds later they had rocked back onto their heels and away from each other. The butterflies she had felt in her stomach settled as she was pulled back into reality by Parvati shrieking, "They lied!"

The uproar from the vengeful second years distracted from the dazed looks on Draco and Hermione's faces. There was that look of uncertainty again. She smiled and blushed furiously as she meandered back to her desk.

McGonagall had entered and begun to teach her lesson.

The day after that Draco had called her a mudblood for the first time in front of the Gryffindor and Slytherin Quidditch teams.

She felt surprisingly detached from that memory. Perhaps she had blocked it out or maybe the memory just didn't affect her as severely as it did then.

She may have forgotten about his blood slurs but she hadn't realised until now that she had never gotten over the uncertainty he had shown her that day in second year.

* * *

Her mind drew her out of the somewhat comforting memory of second year Transfiguration to the stinging chill of the Hogwarts Bridge. The uncertain look remained on the face of the boy in front of her.

A lot of things had changed since then.

He wasn't so repulsive to Hermione anymore… and she was sure that she wasn't so repulsive to him anymore. He had grown up and she had grown into herself. They were both older now, and far more dangerous to each other should things become volatile.

But despite everything, they were both still uncertain.

They both still looked at each other as though they didn't know whether to attack with spells, or verbal insults or with kisses.

Nothing was certain and in this moment of hesitation she felt propelled to kiss him.

They both felt the tug of the inevitable at their navels as they rushed at each other, closing the space between their bodies in a flash. He smashed his lips into hers and pressed her up against the pillar. His lips were full and warm, a stark contrast to the chill of the cold Scottish air. They fell into a familiar position this time, her arms wound around his neck and his hands pushing against her hips. She realised then that he had never just held her, he was always pushing at her hips or pulling at her clothes. Despite that she no longer felt brittle in the cold as his form leaned over her. She practically melted under his fingertips even if they were digging a little too sharply into her flesh.

She could feel him fighting the inevitable and tried to push herself into him, to make him give in.

But this time she wouldn't win.

Her obvious attempt at stealing away his willpower made him rip his lips away from her. He aggressively slammed her hips back into the wooden post of the bridge behind her. _That was going to bruise_, she thought to herself. He took a few steps back, looking away from her and raising a hand to his lips as though they had acted without his permission.

Lowering his arm he saw her move silently towards him, but he held a hand up making her stop in her tracks. He knew she wouldn't advance without his permission but his head was so clouded by her kisses that he found speech unable. He wanted her, and that's as far as he knew himself. What did he want from her?

He knew that the short term gratification of kissing Granger senseless would ultimately end in their ruin. He would never be able to feel anything for her and he was pretty sure she only wanted the physical. The manic direction being with her was going wasn't safe for either of them.

"You don't get to decide what happens with this," he growled at her as he pointed between them. "I do."

He then turned and walked away, travelling town the bridge and away from Hermione.

With the wind whipping across her face and her cheeks a raw pink she sighed and headed in the opposite direction, to her side of the school.

Realising that she could never have him and could never feel anything for such a marble-hearted boy, she walked back to Gryffindor Tower and muttered a quiet dismissal, "Goodbye Malfoy."

* * *

**A/N: So I have the plot planned for the rest of this fic which would make the story more than twice this length in total, maybe even longer. Let me know if you're interested or if I should just wind this up here? I'd obviously love to write it and will probably end up doing so anyway but any feedback so far would be lovely!**

**FUN FACTS:**

**1) When I'm describing Draco's thought process I just hope it's obvious that it's not _just_ his bruised ego that's the problem, no matter how much he insists it is.**

**2) I can't tell whether I dreamed up the second year plot in my head or if I read a headcanon and that stayed in my subconscious. Either way, I hope I made Hermione and Draco's disgust for each other evident and their shock at having felt a connection. Him calling her a mudblood the day afterwards sort of mirrors his reactions after each of their kisses so far; ignoring her, being unneccessarily mean or hunting her down to reassert his dominance. It's all a defense mechanism because he's confused and alone and doesn't want to think about things changing.**

**3) ALSO, there's nothing gross and sexual about it at all seeing as they're like thirteen and I hope that was evident through the hands-off nature of the kiss and the innocent blushing etc. It wasn't even really a kiss it was more like a peck okay? I just got bored of writing them in fifth year and decided to change it up a little, I hope you guys didn't mind.**

**4) The ending is kind of sad. I didn't want to end it that way but who wants fluff when you can have angst. But things can only get better from here I hope, let's hope these two can sort out this big misunderstanding.**

**5) I've made loads of references throughout the past 4 or 5 chapters to some plays I've been studying in English Lit recently. I was just wondering if anyone had picked up on them or wanted to hazard a guess?**

**Thanks for reading! Fave, follow and review!**


	10. The Forbidden Forest

**A/N: Hey guys, revision is not going well as you can probably tell from the fact this is my longest chapter to date. Some serious procrastination has been occurring but I guess that's alright for you guys, seeing as I've written you more. It's the last chapter for their fifth year, so enjoy!**

* * *

Luck had never been on Hermione's side. Ever.

Befriending the boy who was being hunted by the darkest Wizard of all time at the age of 11 was not the most sensible move. Being petrified by the Basilisk, when moments before she had identified the monster, was similarly, very unfortunate. Attracting trouble that was completely unwarranted at the absolute worst of times was a talent of hers. Her time in the Black Lake as Krum's person of interest, the fact she had been in the lavatory while there was a troll on the loose during first year and her polyjuice accident involving cat hair all confirmed her theory; that apart from Harry Potter himself, she was truly the unluckiest person.

That's why she wasn't surprised when she was paired with Malfoy to collect Potions ingredients. It was just so bloody typical. After a moment of outrage at whichever higher power had decided to screw her day up, she resigned herself to it.

It was early afternoon and the sun was streaming through gaps in the canopy of the trees above. Columns of light touched the mossy floor of the Forbidden Forest. Apart from the infrequent rays dotted around the wooded area, the lack of sun meant that the ground was grubby and damp as her shoes stamped through the foliage. There were smatterings of mushrooms and fungi across fallen tree trunks. Wildflowers clumped in clusters, all thriving in spite of the darker conditions.

She held her book open as she walked, laying it across her forearms and gripping the tops of the pages in her upturned palms. Every time she felt her cloak snag on a bramble she pushed forward, not caring for her clothes when her partner was just metres behind her.

Every fibre of her being knew that this was awkward. So awkward that she felt like writhing around and stomping her feet to try and get it out of her system. So bloody awkward.

After their argument after the Easter holidays she had avoided him and he had avoided her, and it had worked.

She hadn't thought of him except from when she saw him in the corridors. She was sure that apart from when she caught his eye in class he had no qualms with forgetting what had passed between them.

They had been doing well, great even, until now.

There hadn't been anything excessively bitter in his insults, just the usual venom that she had grown used to over the years. She hadn't felt the pinch of his insults any more harshly than before. Things had returned to normal, and she wasn't hurt and she wasn't sad. There had been an element of finality to their talk on the bridge. It left neither of them in doubt about where their relationship was headed.

It was almost the end of summer term now. Time had passed. They were over it and almost acting mature about it, if you could call a return to their familiar childish spats mature.

Her only problem now was that she was bored.

When she had that revelation a few weeks ago, she had realised that Draco had been something fun. Definitely something entertaining but nothing serious. Someone to argue with and to kiss but not someone constant and certainly not someone to keep. They had both released themselves from the potential to get hurt by walking away. Now it was summer term and there was no pain, only boredom.

You see, even if it was just for her own entertainment, there was no one who could set her on edge quite like Malfoy could. She didn't need him, she just wanted to talk to him sometimes… and by talk to she really meant scream and shout at.

But she was sure that real feelings were based on mutual need, and she didn't need him. She only wanted him, and wanted him to understand that she had been in the right. She clung to the strands of their argument. She thought up scenarios in which she would confront him with all the points in her defense which she had thought up since then. Replaying the situation in her head, she wished she had stayed her rational and logical self instead of flying off the handle in a manic rage.

But she rolled her eyes at the hopelessness of getting that stubborn ferret to listen to her side of the story. She continued to step over large fallen branches as she skimmed her eyes over the pages of 'Advanced Potions'.

She could hear his footfalls behind her, steadily keeping with her fast pace. Rather annoying seeing as she was trying to escape him.

She knew it was idiotic to try and run away from a Potions partner who didn't want to be assigned to be with you either. It would be faster if she just turned around and split the list of ingredients with him to spot and collect. But that didn't stop her continuing her rampage through the forest walking ahead of Draco for another five minutes.

By the time she had come to a stop, they had reached the correct area of the forest. They could hear shouts from other pairs who were close despite the dense vegetation which blocked them from view.

"Ah, decided to stop running like a frightened little girl through the forest have we?" prodded Draco.

"I am a girl, and I wouldn't test this 'frightened little girl' right now. I'm sure you'll find me quite the opposite of scared," she scorned.

He continued on, pretending to be oblivious to her bored tone. "You're a girl? I never would have noticed with that uniform you wear like a sack."

"Oh no! However will my fragile self-image cope!" she exclaimed in mock despair, "You'll have to try harder than that Malfoy."

Sneering at him she glanced down at the pages of her book and then at her surroundings. She felt his eyes on her but continued to scan her surroundings, then marched up to a tree and pulled a vial out of her bag. She let the Flobberworm Mucus which had been left in a trail up the trunk drip into her container. Next she held out her hand for Malfoy to give her his without even turning to look at him.

When she didn't feel him place the vial into her had she turned to look at him with an irritated huff. His face was set in a scowl and his toned arms were crossed over his chest.

"I am capable of doing this myself," he said through gritted teeth.

Without moving or lowering her hand she replied, "I never said you weren't. Now give me your vial and stop wasting time."

"I'd be done by now if you would just move out my way."

"Well why don't you make me?" Hermione snapped.

Her eyebrows were furrowed as she clenched her book under her arm. She was trying to resist the urge to let her hand slip and bash him round the head with the hulking manuscript.

Without realising it they had inched closer to each other with each remark. They found themselves glaring into each other's eyes, their proud jutted chins almost touching.

Since when had he grown so much? And how are his eyelashes longer than mine, surely there should be a rule against that? If he keeps glaring at me with those eyes I will be forced to punch him in the face.

She was seething and he refused to back down. They stood their ground in the damp air for an eternity until Hermione heard the distant laughs of their classmates. Realising they were short on time and had much more to do, she stepped out of the way and examined her list. She would have to be the bigger person; Draco never was.

Draco collected his Mucus and then they turned back to their lists.

Then they heard the crunching of the undergrowth and the snapping of twigs. Thumping footfalls were fast approaching their clearing and Hermione felt the hairs raise on the back of her neck. It may be the day time and Slughorn and Hagrid may be patrolling but this was still the Forbidden Forest.

Both Hermione and Draco drew their wands in sync, edging closer to each other subconsciously. Their arms were raised in the direction of the thundering sound.

Shoulder to shoulder they stood, pushing against each other and finding support in their stance. They both took a few deep breaths, listening to the sound of the forest and trying to stay alert. As the noise neared, they looked at each other and then forward.

"Wand arm straight, Malfoy."

"Fuck off Granger."

* * *

With a crash two figures fell through the trees and into the clearing in front of them and immediately stopped when they saw the pair.

"Alright 'Mione?" Ron grinned as Harry grimaced at Slughorn's choice of partner for her.

She stepped out of her stance with Malfoy and almost hexed them.

"You two couldn't have announced that it was you thundering through the forest like hooligans? And not a wild dangerous animal?" she said, placing her hands on her hips and doing her best to sound prissy and annoyed.

The smirk that played on her lips betrayed her however. It revealed the comfort she felt from the familiarity of her Gryffindor's. Edging closer to them with a huge smile, she punched them both playfully on the shoulders.

She was glad to see them, but felt uncomfortable having them so close to Draco. This had happened so many times before but she now felt a need for them not to address him at all. He was hers to argue with, only hers. The key thing she was forgetting that was before she even came into the picture, Harry had ensured Draco's hatred long before she had.

In her friends' territory, she still felt anchored to the boy behind her. It was a strange sensation, not a feeling of support but one of being dragged below the waves. But she couldn't let his cold stare which she could feel on the back of her head sink her.

So she laughed at her friends and it wasn't hard given the state of them. Harry's hair was even more of a black mess than usual. Both boys had grass and soil stains down their uniforms as though they had been tackling each other. She should have guessed that they would not have stuck to their assignment. With Harry's adventurous streak and what some might call an aptitude for trouble, she should have guessed they would be running around after each other like headless chickens instead of doing any work.

"Yes, though I do wonder how you two always get partnered with each other. It's hardly fair," Hermione responded to Ron's question.

"Perks of being one of Sluggie's prizes I guess," Harry said uncomfortably, kicking the dirt at his feet. He was always unable to lift his eyes to her when talking about Slughorn's favouritism.

That's when something wriggled in his hand and he jumped, seeming to remember why he was chasing after Ron in the first place. He lifted the Horned Slugs he had been threatening to dump down Ron's top and put them in the container Ron was holding up. Hermione physically cringed when Harry wiped the gunge from his hands down his uniform. _Boys_, she thought.

Malfoy had a similar aversion to Harry washing his hands in that particular fashion as she heard him tut behind her. She could practically sense him baring his teeth in disgust.

"What's wrong Malfoy? Don't like to see the relatives treated that way?" Harry said, raising an eyebrow and confusing the others with his statement.

"What are you talking about?" Draco snapped.

"Oh was I mistaken? Sorry I just thought there was some family resemblance there," Harry grinned, pointing between the slugs and Malfoy. Ron guffawed as Harry began to list the qualities that Malfoy's shared with slugs, "Slimy, ugly-"

"Really Potter? If that's the best you can do I'll be moving on," Draco said. He rolled his eyes as he strutted off in the direction of where Harry and Ron had picked up their slugs.

Maybe he was going to be the bigger person for once.

The trio chuckled to themselves at the expense of Malfoy but Draco's voice cut through their giggles with an amused drawl. It was as though he had been waiting for the right moment to punctuate the little bubble of joy the three Gryffindor's found themselves in.

"And as I recall, Ron has much closer bonds with slugs than my mere familial ties. I'll never forget Second Year."

Ron looked as though he was about to turn green at the memory of when his spell had backfired (because of that dodgy wand of his which Hermione had _told_ him he needed to replace). Harry was clearly trying to bite his tongue to avoid the mention of the second year incident again. But Hermione could see that he was struggling not to sass Malfoy just one more time before they parted ways.

Malfoy had wandered further away so Hermione nodded apologetically to her friends, saying she would see them later. Then she stomped after Malfoy.

_Did he need to be so nasty all the time?_

That was completely uncalled for and poor Ron hated the mention of his day spent throwing up slugs. Only Harry could tease him about it (as she was sure he was doing when running after him with Horned Slugs). Anyone else and he got incredibly touchy.

She caught up to the Slytherin who had collected a few other ingredients on his journey. Yanking on the back of his robes, she caused him to topple off balance and stagger backwards. His previously confident strut through the forest was cut off with her sharp tug to the ruff of his cloak and he whipped round on her in a rage.

Realising he wasn't being assaulted by another student and only Hermione, he growled but his eyes softened. He no longer felt alarmed by the sudden attack. This was normal. Granger always seemed to want to throttle him and this time she almost had done with his own robes.

"You could have been a bit nicer you know," she said as her temper bristled.

"Why the fuck would I do that Granger?"

She was about to say because they were her friends. But she didn't understand how that would mean he would have to be nice to them. She had just felt like that was the right answer but choked on it. She wasn't even friends with him, why would he have to be nice to her friends? And why the hell would he be when he couldn't even have a civil conversation with her? Seeing as he thought she had double-crossed him, it was unlikely he was going to grant her any favours.

Malfoy looked at her expecting a logical answer but found none.

Granger looked stumped and whatever argument she had been about to unleash on him was drowned before it even ignited.

"Common decency I guess."

Malfoy released a loud jeering laugh at the idea and grinned at the naivety of the argument.

As if appearing from the shadows of the forest, Zabini and Nott slunk into the clearing also laughing along with Draco. Malfoy immediately toned down his laughter around his housemates. Hermione thought it was odd that he should have to hide his joy around his housemates, especially when his laughter was at her expense. Surely that would unite them all in derision.

Zabini spoke first, "What is Draco Malfoy's house, Granger?"

"Slytherin."

"Have you ever known a Slytherin to have 'common decency'?" he continued, smirking and looking charming while doing so.

Blaise's skin was glowing and his high cheekbones gave him the same regal look as Draco. Theodore Nott was pale, but with the same jutting bone structure. His light brown hair was mundane in Hermione's opinion, but what he lacked there he made up for in the formal way he carried himself. Tall and thin, he still managed to resemble authority.

Unfortunately for her, Theodore was also the son of a Death Eater. He had laughed at Draco's mudblood comments in earlier years and believed in his own superiority. What a fun meeting this was going to be for her.

She fumbled for her wand and clutched it inside her robes, paranoid and ready to draw it at any point. She knew she could take at least two of them, but three was pushing it even for her. The cold of the air made her shiver while her own nerves induced a clammy sheen of sweat on her temples and down her back. She did not like the fact she was looking up at them and she really did not like the fact they outnumbered her.

She found herself moving closer to Draco because although they weren't on good terms, he wouldn't harm her. He must know he would get the blame for anything that happened to her seeing as they were partners. It seemed logical to align herself with him out of the three towering boys.

Blaise noticed her jitteriness and seemed to smile to himself, about what she would never know. He stood at least two metres from her and leant back on his heels, keeping his hands in his trouser pockets. Malfoy had nothing to worry about so was twirling his wand in his hands distractedly. At the small gesture of respect; acknowledging her personal space she exhaled. She tried quirking her lips into a meek smile, but still clasped her wand in her pocket.

Curiousity peaked, Nott prompted her for an answer to Blaise's question, "Well, have you ever met a decent Slytherin?"

Now she knew why Slytherin's were called calculating. They were all staring at her. When she so much as shifted feet they noticed. Hermione was pretty sure they were reading her body language as easily as they would a book. Her next answer may determine what they thought of her, whether they would be civil or somewhat less so.

She sniffed and then responded as diplomatically as she could, "I have yet to find a wholly decent Slytherin. But I guess I don't know many well enough and historically there have been many who were brilliant, take Merlin for example."

There was no reaction from them for a second. Hermione worried she was about to be hexed but after a moment, they tilted their heads up, nodding. Blaise's eyes seemed to light up slightly; he liked the open-minded Gryffindor. She hadn't completely condemned Slytherin. He also never completely condemned impure blood. That's not to say he was sympathetic. He just never knew what to think of blood purity politics so stayed well out of it.

Theodore's shoulders slouched, feeling less as though he had the formidable reputation of his house to uphold.

Seeing them relax when she was still on edge made her decide to ramp up the discomfort. "I don't judge people based on their natures. Not on things that people cannot help," she said scathingly. The open feelings the Slytherin's were having towards her were cut with the sharp knife of reality.

While she didn't judge Slytherin's for their houses dark image and supposed allegiance to Voldemort, they judged her for her blood. The isolation of their house wasn't too bad because at least they had each other. But it came like a punch in the stomach to the boys when they realised she was alone against their prejudice.

Just as quickly as this realisation came, Theo brushed it off as sentimental nonsense. Draco pushed it out of his head, choosing to ignore his mixed emotions. It was easier that way. Facing their own hateful ways only led to the realisation that things were wrong and their family and friends were all wrong. Cowardly it may seem, but it was never a possibility for them to stand up to their families. That would indirectly be standing up to the Dark Lord himself.

But it stuck with Blaise. He grimaced at Hermione's words.

Glancing at the other two boys, he knew they had no sympathetic sentiments towards muggleborns. He saw them as their masks. As the charades they put on for the rest of the school. He understood that if he spoke out now and supported Granger's sentiments he would be reported back to Voldemort. He wasn't stupid enough to take that risk. It wasn't worth it just to reassure a girl who he was pretty sure didn't need or want his reassurance. She was strong enough herself.

"Well… seeing as your top of the class I was wondering if you could help us find the knotgrass," Blaise said, segueing away from that awkward topic. She wasn't oblivious and realised he had been clever enough to stroke Hermione's ego. Anyone who complimented her brains was sure to be treated like a friend, and Blaise knew that. She knew that he knew that, but couldn't help it when all she wanted was to be acknowledged for the hard work she put into school?

Sizing him up, she glared at him as though trying to decipher any ulterior motives.

"Nott and I have pretty shoddy eyesight… and don't have a clue what we're looking for," he continued to explain, faltering only slightly under her daggers.

Hermione's face broke into a small self-indulgent grin. She then walked up to him and gently pushed his arm so he stepped backwards. Dazzled by the gesture he looked at her hand and then her face to see her smirking at his hesitance.

"You're standing on it, Zabini," she laughed. He looked down and identified the sodding grass they had been looking for for ages and heard Theo guffaw behind him. Blaise's facial expression was a little shocked so Hermione removed her arm from his, flinching as though she had been stung.

He didn't like the close proximity to a muggleborn. She took a step back, trying to be respectful of his space as he had been to her. _Perhaps she'd pushed it too far and been too nice. Who the hell knows with these Slytherins?_ They seem to be inept at normal human interactions.

Seeing her rip her hand from his arm he frowned, confused as to what he had done to offend her. He was just so surprised that she had actually helped them. He had stared at her as though she was a mythical creature. _For Salazars sake Blaise, get your act together_, he thought to himself.

He reached to the side and thumped his friend for laughing, even though he knew Theo wasn't laughing at her. He should be thumping Theo especially hard because he was laughing at him, stupid prick.

Grinning at Hermione, he crouched and pulled up tufts of the annoying grass. It had been elusive until Hermione had located it. How typical?

Zabini shook his head because now he looked stupid. He was pretty sure it was worth it when Granger seemed to ease up around him. He hadn't scared her and hadn't given her a bad impression of Slytherin's. As far as he was concerned he had made a new acquaintance in Hermione Granger.

Blaise held out his hand for her container while he was crouched on the ground and placed a few tufts of the weed into hers. He then stood and looked at Draco whose mouth had dropped open as he stood with his container, which had not been filled by Blaise.

"You couldn't have spared a minute to collect mine as well?" Draco said through gritted teeth as he watched Blaise and Theo walk away.

"Ah, Draco, I never would have guessed you are such a princess," sarcasm dripping from his words.

"You managed to get this priss over here some," he said, pointing to her. She shuffled her feet and smiled, trying to suppress a chuckle.

"That's because I'm a gentleman… and I like the Granger girl, she's more fun than you are" he laughed, walking away with Theo and not sparing them a glance over his shoulder.

* * *

She expected Draco to be fuming but found that the boy did have a sense of humour. _Who would have guessed, especially with the sour look he always had on his face?_ He was smirking as his eyes followed his two house mates, but immediately became defensive when he looked up at her.

She had one of those moments they talk about in novels. That moments when the gears stop turning and everything just fits into place. When you understand a complex puzzle after years of trying.

She finally understood the Slytherins. She just couldn't believe she had been so stupid not to figure it out sooner. They were just the same as anyone else only they isolated themselves. A bit like the way she always asked for some time alone to lick her wounds after an argument, the Slytherin housemates did that with the rest of Hogwarts. Their isolation was a result of constant conflict with the other houses and a belief that above all they had to defend their own. It wasn't some self-righteousness (though in many individual cases it was). It was their instinct for self-preservation that kept them at bay. She supposed being in the most isolated and hated house could do that to a person.

She wanted to be in that circle and she didn't know why.

She wanted to climb over Draco's defences and completely break down those large stony walls. It wasn't because of any sentimental reasons. No, she wanted to know the way things worked. She simply had a wieerd fascination with the psychosis of the members of Slytherin house. Perhaps she felt slightly responsible for his loneliness, as a student who had spurned the Slytherins. Following that thought she remembered that he had done that to himself. He had made an enemy of the other houses and it wasn't her doing.

She just supported the segregation of the snakes. She didn't instigate it and she couldn't solve it as an individual so why should she bother? After all, he had treated her awfully. She owed him nothing.

But had he really treated her awfully? There was no question about his bullying in earlier years but now his treatment of her was halfheartedly mean. All in the name of self-preservation. She hated him for not having a back bone but she hated Voldemort even more for driving people like him away from her side. Her side of the war.

She was on the good side, the side of the light. He was dark.

Draco watched her thinking to herself for a few minutes. Her withdrawal from reality was marked by the way her eyes glazed over. He could see the cogs turning in her mind as she thought something through, he only wished he knew what went on in there. He had realised that she was crazy and impulsive and not at all like the good, rule-abiding girl she was reputed to be. But she was disciplined and meticulous. As he watched her he admitted there was a certain brilliance to her neurotic tendencies. Completely fucking psychotic, but fascinating.

He found the corners of his lips being tugged up though a smile could never settle on his face comfortably. Instead he settled into a familiar smirk. Her eyebrows were sewn together. The tip of her tongue was sticking out of her lips, clamped between her teeth as she bit down in concentration. It would be endearing if he didn't know she was probably orchestrating plans to dispose of him.

"I didn't think a simple conversation with some Slytherins would challenge you so much," he drawled, walking on to collect the last ingredient on their list.

Nightshade would be found back on the edge of the forest where Slughorn and Hagrid would now be waiting for the return of the final few fifth year students. Draco walked off leaving Hermione throwing daggers at his back.

Clenching her fists, she grunted in irritation. After a few calming breaths she followed her rude, obnoxious, vile partner who clearly had a problematic superiority complex. She thudded along, stamping her feet with extra venom. She hoped he would hear her huffing and realise the giant, sodding prat that he was to make her so angry all the time.

She stared at the back of his head, memorising it so that one day, when they were out of school and allowed to duel, she would know exactly where to aim her hexes. He had tested her patience. She didn't know the extent of her rage until she felt herself grab his arm, spin him round and slam his back against the trunk of a nearby tree.

She had her wand at his throat, hovering a centimeter away from his face. She clenched the arm of his robes as she pressed him back. She felt her pulse thumping in the back of her head. With every beat she thought of another way he had degraded her, insulted her or discounted her. It fuelled her anger. The fire she felt in the pit of her stomach lit flames which licked her skin, her face radiating angry heat as she held it inches away from his. She wanted him to feel how angry she was.

She felt an itch in her palm and she realised she wanted to throw a punch his way like she had in Third Year. She tightened her fist, trying to diffuse the craving. Her balled hand in his robes twisted as she gritted her teeth.

"I hate everything about you," she growled, releasing her grip on his robes. When he went to move, thinking he was going to get away. She raised her wand closer to him, threatening him to take just one more step and find out the huge array of rather nasty hexes she knew.

Sinking back, he put his hands in his trouser pockets and jutted his chin proudly.

"That's nothing new Granger. What's caused this bout of unprovoked rage?" he said. He sounded uninterested in hearing every reason for her loathing, which he was sure she was planning on listing for his entertainment.

She hated almost everything about him.

_But what had brought this sudden fit of rage upon her?_

The answer erupted from her mouth before she had an opportunity to censor it.

"Why have you returned to treating me like a stranger? You've returned to the despicable little boy you pretend to be in public," she yelled.

He looked surprised by her admission, raising his eyebrows but immediately furrowing them. His face was warped by anger and then a second later, morphed into his stony mask. He felt it getting harder and harder to breathe as he thought about how fucking condescending she was being. She was only thinking about her own problems with him, and not considering that perhaps he still hadn't forgiven her. Everytime he saw her he got a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach, like a small tightening knot, a reminder of her duplicity.

Everything she said had nothing to do with meaning it. He hadn't wanted her to say anything meaningful anyway. She couldn't even say the simplest of things without weaving lies into her speech, and it polluted his memory of her.

He spoke quietly, slowly and definitely.

"I don't want your reasons behind it, but if I wanted you, you would be only mine. I don't. But I haven't forgotten the fact you lie like a snake and I suppose I should have expected it, you're as ruthless as any Slytherin. I would advise you to remember you're the one in the wrong here," he stared at her as he paused. She took a stumbling step back as the anger she felt towards him was sucked out of her. It felt like a punch to the chest, the air had been knocked out of her lungs.

"I don't trust you because every time you're with me, your intentions are unclear. I don't want to be around you if at all possible."

During his speech her wand had been lowered as she had felt her whole body go limp. Her wide eyes tingled as she fought back tears. He was holding all those false rumours about her and Ron against her. He didn't want to be civil to a girl who he believed had made him share her. Stupid as the whole idea of sharing was, when they weren't in a relationship, she understood why he was angry. She had lied.

She had forgotten in the months since Easter. She had betrayed his trust. Or at least he believed she had because of rumours Ron had circulated. _Sod it, how could she even expect him to be okay with her?_ He never was before, only a few times in private had she really felt him enjoy her. She had understood his magnetism but in those few moments she had become completely engrossed in him. So completely engrossed that she forgot that they were brief and fleeting moments. He never treated her differently in public. Her expectations for him to be civil were laughable, but she wanted that secret back.

As she watched Malfoy walk away, she expected with a sinking of her heart that he would hold a grudge. She still hoped, rather foolishly that he would forgive her. That he would listen to her long enough for her to explain and for him to understand. If there was one thing Hermione knew about herself it was that when she wanted someone to, they would listen.

She would make him listen.

* * *

When she caught up to him, he was back on the edge of the Dark Forest with the rest of the class listening to Slughorn register them all. She answered her name and then returned to the castle. The rest of the summer term, she resigned herself to a life without that feeling Draco inspired in her. She missed how her spine had dissolved at the feel of his grip on her, but found that when she tried to approach him he avoided her. Always disappearing down corridors and secret passageways. She had come to terms with the fact that she should respect his space and his desire to be away from her, no matter how much it ached to have so much space between them.

She boarded the Hogwarts Express at the end of the summer term and returned to her very normal life, with her muggle parents and her muggle house. He left the train platform, heading in a different direction. In the direction of a dark house, full of dark magic, dominated by a Dark Lord. He didn't know it yet but he was about to come face to face with his father's failure. He would have to face everything his family had ever hoped for him and he wasn't going to enjoy it.

No, he wasn't a willing subject to receive the Dark Mark, but Voldemort pressed on even as he writhed under the pain of the spell.

He had expected to feel powerful at least, but when he even so much as looked at it he felt the blood drain from his face.

He had been through agony and the only thing he could think to do was shut down and shut off.

Draco Malfoy had finally lost himself.

But it was a common saying that you had to lose everything you once knew about yourself, in order to find yourself.

* * *

**A/N: To be honest I don't know what happened here. I just kind of went with the flow and yeah... it'll probably be several months before I post again so I just wanted to post this chapter to keep the story going and keep you guys happy.**

**1) There have been some important interactions here with different characters who will be playing a larger role later... just keep them in mind when reading in the future. I always write them when they are alone and cut off from everyone around them, I thought it was time to bring them into play with the rest of the Hogwarts' students.**

**2) Hermione basically completely forgets about the rumour with Ron here because it wasn't real for her. Malfoy is superb at holding a grudge so of course he's still clinging to it. Hermione says she wants that secret relationship back with him and that's what is attracting her to him right now, the excitement of it all. He is not so enthusiastic about that idea.**

**3) Hermione's gaining an insight into why Draco and the rest of Slytherin are such shits. If anyone, she would understand not being able to make friends so easily and being isolated so she's the best one for the job when it comes to cracking them.**

**4) Draco got the Dark Mark. Thoughts and feelings about that in general are that he knew he had to do it, but wasn't willing. He just didn't really have a choice. For the end of the chapter just keep in mind this quote; "To deny the self, to die to it, to lose it, is to understand its true nature."**

**Follow, favourite and review if you enjoyed it... Just let me know what you thought. Thanks for reading!**


	11. The Prefects' Bathroom

**If any readers are still interested, I'm back after a very long break with a new chapter. I re-read your reviews and knew that I couldn't just leave it there, they got me inspired to continue writing this. Apologies for the wait, I'm not happy with this but then again I never am, so here goes! I hope you like this! **

**Fave, follow and review!**

* * *

She turned her head back to stare down the dark corridor, peering into the black and anticipating another noise. She couldn't quite place what she felt it was. She had just heard something; perhaps the shuffling of robes or the accidental scraping of shoes on the stone floor?

She raised her wand warily as she lit it, muttering "Lumos" under her breath.

Squinting, searching for a small trip up from the student who was out of bed but it never came. Maybe she was going a little mental. She wouldn't be surprised with N.E.W.T.s, Prefect duties and Slug Club meetings stretching her so thin. She stowed her wand and sighed, feeling her eyes pricking with tears.

Exhaustion was going to be the death of her.

She raised her hands to her face and rubbed her eyes in circles, trying and failing to revive herself. When it only served to redden her eyes and remind her of the bags underneath them she began to drag her feet to Gryffindor Common Room.

She had done enough.

She decided her patrol shift was over. The other prefects would be patrolling the castle. She would feel less guilty if she knew any other prefects who did their job as vigilantly as she did, or even did their jobs full stop. The other pair of prefects patrolling tonight would be Slytherins; she was hesitant to leave when she knew Draco and Pansy would be sure to treat whoever they found unfairly. Maybe she might be okay if Ron hadn't fallen ill this week and left her to patrol alone.

* * *

A week earlier they had arrived back at school for the beginning of their sixth year of Hogwarts. She and Ron had sat in the prefect meeting on the Hogwarts Express bored out of their minds. It's not that she wasn't interested in her duties, it's just that she had heard this long list of rules and regulations last year. Ron had kept nudging her and rolling his eyes and on more than one occasion she had to suppress the urge to grin back at him.

Draco and Pansy had been sitting across the table from them and every time Ron so much as leaned over to make a joke or pushed against her with his shoulder, Draco's fist tightened. He refused to look at her, and kept his eyes on the Head Boy and Girl at the head of the table, but she was hyperaware of him. Every small motion, even just the clenching of his fingers, set her on edge.

_Well, that's interesting_, she thought as she decided to push his temper.

The next time Ron muttered, "No shit," in response to the Head Boy pointing out that they 'must act like Prefects' she didn't supress her laugh. His arms were resting on the table so she gripped his elbow and gave Ron's arm a playful squeeze. Ron beamed back at her, looking happy she had finally cracked at one of his jokes. When she looked back across the table Malfoy was no longer bothering to hide his glare, looking straight at her.

His taught knuckles had turned a white colour as he clenched his fist. His jaw had tightened as he gritted his teeth. How she hadn't realised before she didn't know, but she had just realised that she could use Malfoy's jealous streak to her advantage.

He was possessive, didn't want her showing any emotion towards anyone else. Despite leaving her, he still didn't want her to move on. He wanted her to pine over him, show him how desirable he was while he continued to spurn her.

She didn't quite know what he had done with her, but she knew that she had too much pride to give into him now. She raised her chin and stared back across the table into his eyes as he glowered at her. She wouldn't flinch and she wouldn't break.

The only thing she could think about now, alone and on patrols were his eyes. That look he gave her, like she was abusing him. She didn't realise it then but she had taken a twisted sort of pleasure in seeing him wound so tight. She got a kind of power trip from knowing she could and would betray him so casually; that she would stoop so low.

She was in such a weary haze that she only now realised she had made her way back to the portrait hole. She stared back into the darkness, still on edge from earlier. She had heard something and felt as though she had a pair of eyes on her back.

"Whoever's there, go to bed and I won't be forced to hex you," she snapped, losing patience with whichever student thought it was funny or wise to follow a Prefect around after curfew. She gave the password and a small nod in acknowledgement of the Fat Lady and passed through. As the door swung closed behind her, she stood staring at the crowded Gryffindor Common Room. The sight of the bustling room inspired a melancholy feeling and reminded her of how alone she was.

Seamus and Dean were arguing over who should hold the newspaper they were both reading, Ginny was curled up in the armchair opposite them and looked adorable just dozing there. Harry was sitting on the sofa in the middle, blatantly gazing at her, an earnest sort of desire in his eyes. She made a mental note to talk to both of them about what exactly was going on between them. Parvati was painting Lavender's nails on the coffee table in the centre of the ring of furniture. It all looked so homely and she - she wasn't part of it. She simply hovered on the perimeter, orbiting the group but never quite feeling including.

Over the past year she had felt less and less like a Gryffindor.

She had discovered things in herself that weren't noble…

She had been desperate for Malfoy. Still was.

She had deceived her friends. None of them knew about him, and she planned to keep it that way. That wasn't brave or noble or courageous.

She had tried to tell herself it was because she was private and that they wouldn't care but she knew the reality of it. She knew it was because she was scared of them telling her the things she really needed to hear. Things like 'you're stupid if you think he cares about you at all'. But she just couldn't hear those words, and though they rattled around her head daily, she couldn't bear to hear them spoken aloud.

But she sighed and released a breath, realising that she needed to go over there. She felt bitter and broken and tired but strolled over to them thinking they needed a distraction as much as she needed one.

Ginny looked up and grinned, unfurling and shifting over so that Hermione had space to squeeze into the chair with her. Hermione slumped down and quietly chuckled when her and Ginny's hips couldn't jam into the narrow seat. She shifted Ginny to sit sideways and drape her legs over Hermione's thighs.

"Oi, commandeering my seat!" Ginny smiled as she wiggled into a comfortable positioning. "You alright 'Mione? You look like death."

Hermione glared back at her and drawled, "Thanks Gin."

"Wow, I was wrong, you're an absolute ray of sunshine," Ginny deadpanned and quirked an eyebrow.

Hermione sighed and mumbled, "To be honest I feel awful so that's no surprise."

Harry frowned over at her and said "Ron was feeling better today but Pomfrey wouldn't let him leave. He should be able to take your shift tomorrow, give you a break."

"A break?" she scoffed. "I'm pretty sure breaks in N.E.W.T. year are a myth."

Harry grunted in assent and hung his hands in his head. Now she really looked at him he looked worse than her. His skin looked drawn and sickly and his eyes were hollowed out as though he hadn't slept recently. His hands were running through his long black hair, which hadn't been washed in days. He was running himself into the ground and needed sleep - and a good shower.

She knew her friend had been having his nightmares again but now he was becoming so obsessed with them that he spent every waking moment reliving them.

"Harry, come on, I want to take a look at your copy of 'Advanced Potions'" she said, and walked up the stairs knowing Harry would follow. He was obsessed with that book and refused to let anyone else see it. She knocked on the door to the boy's dormitory and when there was no reply she entered. They were alone. Harry bounded in just after her, "'Mione you can't look at it."

"Right now I couldn't give a rat's arse about that sodding book Harry," she muttered as she meandered around the dormitory and into the bathroom as she picked up a change of clothes, a towel and his wash bag.

He replied to her with a puzzled look and was about to ask her when she replied to his next question without prompting.

"You look like shit Harry, and not in the way I do. You haven't washed in days- don't lie to me" she said as he went to protest. "I'm taking you to the Prefects bathroom and you're going to have a relaxing bath and stop worrying yourself to death. Please Harry, if not for your sake then for the sake of all of our noses."

"I can just shower you know," he protested.

"Then go on, in you go you ungrateful sod," she teased. "No Prefects bathroom for you."

At this Harry laughed weakly and accepted her very rare offer to break the rules for him .

She then swept out of the room and he followed close behind. Their friends looked up and smiled when they saw that Hermione had taken control of the situation and was leading him out of the Common Room.

Ginny looked up and shouted, "Ahh finally, I thought I was going to have to ask Malfoy for one of those 'Potter Stinks' badges he made last year."

"You wound me," replied Harry playfully.

With a wicked grin the red head turned back to the fire and Harry followed Hermione out of the portrait hole.

"You know I can walk there by myself," Harry said, throwing his towel over his shoulder and taking his stuff from her hands. She was happy to let him carry his own things but there was no way he was going by himself after curfew. She was still Hermione Granger. She still only wanted to bend the school rules, not completely break them.

"I'm not telling you the password," she rolled her eyes.

"So you're willing to let me break the 'prefects only' rule, but not tell me the password. Where is the logic in that?"

"Then you can't use it again. Ron will be back tomorrow and he will force you to take care of yourself. This is a temporary measure."

"Alright, alright" he joked, and she linked her arm in his as they headed down the corridor, half trying to hold herself up in her sleepy state.

As they walked he seemed to sag into her, putting more and more of his weight on her arm. She didn't know whether to stay silent, try to take his mind off of things or just be blunt about the fact she was worried for him. He seemed to forget to hold himself up; his fatigue becoming more and more evident to Hermione who was taking the brunt of his weight.

"Harry, are you alright?" she said as they rounded the corner onto the corridor with the Prefects bathroom.

"I'm- I don't know. I guess I'm just tired," he said. Her friend lied so easily now that if it weren't for that fact she'd known him for 6 years, she wouldn't realise anything was wrong with him.

"You're having dreams again," she stated. There was no point in asking. It was obvious.

"Yes," he conceded, sighing and dropping his head.

She had nothing to reply to that. He had studied Occulomency but didn't have the strength at the moment to fight it. Sirius' death had hit him hard and he carried his misery around like a black cloud over his head. She couldn't blame him but sometimes wished he would make looking after him a little easier on her and Ron. Then again Ron had the patience of a saint, constantly dragging him to dinner and waking him from his nightmares. She couldn't do many things that Ron could, but she realised that this past week she hadn't been a very good replacement either.

Now she was practically carrying her friend the final steps towards the bathroom when the door swept open, banging loudly as it swung back against the wall. Draco walked out and slung his towel over his shoulder, not noticing she was only a couple of metres away from him. She was about to clear her throat when Pansy fell through the door and into his chest giggling.

She noticed their hair looked slick and wet, as though they had both just been for a bath.

But, that would mean they had been… in there together.

The thought made her feel a bit ill but what was far worse was the sight of his hand clamping around her shoulder as he gave her a one-armed squeeze. There was an intimacy in his touch which he had never given her. So innocent and friendly, not passionate and hateful.

Parkinson cleared her throat and only then did she realise she had been staring.

"We'd better be going," Pansy said with a sneer as she nodded in the direction of Harry and Hermione.

Draco looked up and immediately stiffened. Little did he know she was currently trying to pull herself together piece by piece. She was shocked, though couldn't understand why, that he was with Pansy. He had always meant to have been with Pansy, and she had to remind herself that he had never really been interested in her. Not like that.

He didn't meet her gaze. Draco couldn't look her in the eye. He was still haunted by the memories. Every time he kissed Pansy, he had to will himself not to feel like he was being disloyal to Granger. He had to forget her kisses, just like she had forgotten his. Only, in his fragile mental state, Draco couldn't help making some admissions to himself. If he was honest with himself he needed a fix. His lungs were lined with the scum of it, but Hermione was that unhealthy addiction that could help ease the terror and the pain caused by his mission.

He was held captive by the hole inside his head, now that he had received the Mark, and he was willing to try everything to fill it.

The first few days at school had been bad, but at least he was away from home. He was even ready to forget that he only liked Pansy as a friend, if only to pretend that he could have some normality in his life. She was like cold water to a septic wound, cooling but not healing. Not even close.

He had even got so close as to consider forgiving Hermione for what she had done to him, if she could, for just a moment help him forget what had happened to his family, and him. He knew she would be like a stinging disinfectant to a wound, it would burn and he would writhe under the pain, but the new sensation would be so strong that for some time it would distract him. Restore him, just while he was with her.

But at the same time, forgetting what she had done would be a harder fight for him. He needed a little more time.

She had to wait. He would make her wait.

Hermione bared her teeth, wanting to pounce on Pansy and tear her apart. Not only was she a bully and a nasty person, she had now also taken Draco.

This wasn't right. His lips were hers and she couldn't help but think of everything that was so wrong about Pansy and Draco in that moment. He was hers, she wanted him to touch her and not Pansy. Though not quite in the same affectionate way as he did Pansy. No, she only wanted him to run his fingers under her shirt and grip her hips like he had done before.

Had he done that to Pansy?

She didn't want to think about it.

Why was she getting so uptight over it?

She knew she wanted to grab at him and kiss him right there but she also knew she could do that with anyone. She needed to get a grip. There was nothing special about Draco, he had just been convenient. He was willing to keep their few kisses a secret like they both wanted. Now he wasn't so convenient… but that didn't stop her from wanting more.

She had been given a taste and was hooked. Maybe it was the first time he had held her at the Yule Ball, or maybe it was only when he kissed her in that classroom. She couldn't tell but she knew he had left his fingerprints all over her, claimed her and then… dropped her?

That was infuriating. He seemed to have won. He was completely unaffected by her and had chosen Pansy of all sodding people to replace her with.

She on the other hand heated up at the sight of him.

Her eyes followed the droplet of water travelling from the wet hair at the back of his neck below the collar of his shirt.

She cursed her imagination, thinking of where that water droplet was travelling. Down his toned back, down the path which she wanted to run the tips of her fingers. It was almost as though she was intoxicated, unable to keep her thoughts from running away with themselves in that split second before Draco went to turn away with Pansy.

_With fucking Pansy. Ugh._

Maybe that was her problem? Maybe it was the fact that Pansy had him that was really irking her. Maybe it was the competition that had her blood raging and pounding in her ears.

She was a strict believer in the fact that no boy was worth fighting over, especially not Draco Malfoy, but she disregarded that. Pansy wasn't her friend. Pansy and Draco were not even official, let alone exclusive. She didn't even know they were a thing until about 8 seconds ago when they stumbled out of the Prefect's bathroom together.

_Don't think about it_, she reminded herself.

She turned to look up at Harry by her side. He seemed equally disgusted with the couple although she was fairly certain it was because they had just been together in the bath he was about to bathe in, and not because of rabid jealousy like her.

"Bleugh", she said as Harry was making exaggerated throwing up sounds.

Draco called over his in response, "I hope you enjoy the bath as much as I did, Scarface."

Pansy giggled and it sounded like the shrieking of metal moving against metal.

Harry looked down at her, looking as though he couldn't choose between being physically sick at the image Draco had painted or laughing at it. He said almost disapprovingly, "I definitely won't be enjoying myself the same way."

Not realising that Draco could still hear them, they jumped when Draco called back for a final time, "No one would enjoy a prig like Granger," he scoffed.

She couldn't see his face when he spoke from the dark end of the corridor but she could feel it in his words.

Hate.

He spoke with such carelessness that she could feel the hurt seep into her skin.

The way she had wanted to tear Pansy from him was how he must feel about her and Ron. But now he was throwing accusations at her about Harry as well. He needed to get that jealousy, or whatever it was, in check or more people than just her would realise there was something unusual going on between them.

"Well he certainly has a special interest in your love life," Harry said, raising an eyebrow.

"The whole school seems to have a special interest in my love life," she sighed, avoiding the question and effectively shutting Harry up. She didn't want to talk about it right now… or ever.

She whispered the password to the bathroom and let Harry go in.

Leaning back against the stone wall beside the entrance to the bathroom she closed her eyes and rested her head against the bricks behind her. Her back was flat against the stone and she felt her head droop every few minutes, threatening to lure her to sleep before they returned to the Common Room. Everytime she shook her head and pinched herself, remembering that she was on watch duty in case a teacher or even Filch found Harry using the Prefects Bathroom.

For about the sixth time since she had been standing there she closed her eyes and lay her head back, but this time something stopped her from falling asleep or even getting close to comfortable enough to do so. She could once again feel a pair of eyes on her. She didn't know from where but she clasped her want in her pocket as she huddled further into her robes, feeling the chill of the night air more now that the hairs on the back of her neck were on end.

She called out and there was no reply. She heard faint scuffling away from her, them trying to be as quiet as possible, moving down the corridor. She felt whoever it was leave; she was no longer being watched.

She shuddered and silently willed Harry to hurry up.

Standing in the corridor she was once again left alone with her thoughts, which left her to simmer angrily over Malfoy for a few more minutes until she worked herself up into a rage, forgetting about the creep in the shadows until tomorrow.

* * *

As she had waited she had accioed Harry's invisibility Cloak and had let him walk back by himself stating she needed to check the library urgently. It wasn't unusual for Hermione to have sudden cravings for books and answers so Harry left her, making sure she would be okay about one hundred times before he went.

She really just needed some time alone. She didn't want to return to her dormitory full of girls who would either be talking to each other or asleep. If they were talking to each other she would have to join in and put on a friendly face. She couldn't do that right now. If they were asleep she would have to be quiet, not punch or kick something and definitely couldn't scream in anger. She couldn't do that right now either.

She needed a walk.

Alone.

She needed the cold air of the stone castle to knock the storm out of her. The air around her was cool and still and in sharp contrast to the mutinous storm that was raging inside her head. She scowled down at her hands, picking at her nails and examining them as she walked full speed ahead. She had an agitated energy surrounding her and couldn't keep still.

It hurt.

It actually really hurt.

Being accused of something you weren't guilty of was awful. Not being able to plead your case was also awful. Having someone say such nasty things and call you names hurt as well. But the real clincher was that Draco wouldn't listen.

* * *

He walked up the stairs from the Dungeons, using the privilege of being a Prefect to his full advantage. He needed to get out.

He couldn't believe he had lost control again.

That girl was dangerous. She made his control slip - and his control was what was keeping him alive. He had to guard his brain and his secrets now, and the massive fucking mark on his arm. If the Dark Lord didn't want Draco to be discovered he could have just left him unmarked for another year or two. But no, he had put the most incriminating evidence on the skin of his forearm for anyone to see.

Voldemort didn't really believe he would succeed. He was sending him on a suicide mission as punishment for his father's mistakes.

But Draco _wasn't_ planning on dying.

He would find a way to kill Dumbledore. He would do anything to save his father. Anything for his family.

That where he underestimated Draco.

Draco loved his parents. He wouldn't fail them.

Or at least he had thought he wouldn't. But now, at the slightest provocation by Granger he felt his defenses slipping. The iron bars he had placed around his mind had melted as he felt fire in the pit of his stomach, rage at the sight of her going to the Prefect's Bathroom with Potter.

As he strutted down the corridor, he kept his head down, watching his shoes as they stepped in front of him. Focusing on the rhythm of his footsteps to try and control the chaotic feelings in his chest, he forgot to watch were he was going until it was too late.

He felt himself pass through a filmy surface. It wasn't tangible but it was a barrier and he glided through it, almost feeling like he had walked through a tightly weaved spider web. He was about to turn around and examine what spell was set up there when he collided with another body.

The impact winded him momentarily as a girl growled, "Student's shouldn't be out of bed after curfew!"

"Prefect," he said, pointing at his badge.

Then he realised that it was Granger, as he watched her rub her forehead where it had smashed into his chin.

Brilliant. He needed some air to get away from his thoughts of her and she just so happens to be rampaging through the halls. _Fucking brilliant_.

She seemed to recognise it was him and falter. She fell back, trying to get out of his space. Trying to get him out of hers.

Both immediately averted their eyes and continued their journeys down the corridors in their original directions. But as Hermione stepped around Draco's shoulder she came up against a force. A wall, some kind of spellwork. She pushed her hand up against it and it moved a small distance all the while putting up resistance. But it was like a magnetic field, you couldn't push against it hard enough to displace it or break the barrier.

She turned around to walk down the other direction but as she expected Draco was on the other side pushing against an invisible forcefield. They were stuck in a ring and neither seemed to have cast the charm. There was no way out.

"What the _fuck_ did you do, Granger?"

* * *

**Okay so I know this chapter was kind of introducing them in a new year, in a new light so it was a bit long winded in that way, but I hope you enjoyed it regardless!**

**FUN FACTS:**

**1) Hermione feels like she's losing herself, or her best characteristics, by lying about her relationship with Draco. She feels excluded and alone. That's mirrored in Draco, who feels the same for different, but hopefully obvious reasons. **

**2) Draco has been through a lot over summer, and then he's feeling vulnerable. He's using Pansy. He's got a serious problem with jealousy. He's downright nasty to Hermione. There's not much to like about him at this point, but just keep in mind he feels lost and disillusioned with everything. Having Voldemort torture your family can probably turn you bitter and cold. And Draco being both of those things already has just turned him into a mess of a human being. **

**3) Who do you think is watching Hermione? Draco? Another boy? A professor? Speaking of other mysteries, they're trapped. How long do you think I'm going to keep them in there and what do you think the trap is set up for?**

**I really want to hear whatever you have to say about this chapter! Fave, review and follow!**


	12. Circe's Ring

**Hey guys, I'm giving you really unrealistic expectations by publishing twice in less than a week, but I just wanted to get this out there before I go back to uni. I don't know what my work schedule will be like but I'll try to get something written during term despite being under piles of work. Anyways, fave, review and follow, because it makes me smile (and write faster)!**

* * *

_They were stuck in a ring and neither seemed to have cast the charm. There was no way out._

_"What the fuck did you do Granger?"_

* * *

"What did I do? Why the hell were you setting up a – what is this?" Hermione said, pushing desperately against the invisible barrier. Pushing against it and walking along the edge she found they were stuck in a circle.

"I – don't- know!" Draco growled, striking the invisible wall, each word being followed by a violent punch to the force field.

"Can you please stop that and use your brain? This is magic. Last time I remembered, it doesn't fall victim to sheer physical force."

She almost sneered but then remembered she was stuck with him for an indefinite amount of time. Until she figured out how to remove themselves from whatever cruel trick this was.

Malfoy was still facing away from her as she examined whatever spellwork was keeping them there, his hand leaning on the pressure being exerted by their cage to keep them there and his head hanging in defeat. Her pacing back and forth was making him feel queasy. He could hear her muttering to herself.

"Not two separate flat barriers… it's a circular wall which means… and the flexibility to the forcefield – not rigid – well that leaves two options but-"

"Granger, please, for Salazar's sake stop your incessant humming."

"I'm trying to figure out how we are stuck in this – whatever this is - so that I can get us out of here as fast as possible!"

"Figure it out _quietly_," he snapped.

She looked taken aback. Then her shock turned into insult then to anger, and just as it rose to a crescendo, her rage subsided into mere irritation. She needed to get out of here.

"What exactly are you doing then, to figure out why we're in here _Malfoy_?"

"Honestly, I'm just trying to focus on not wrapping my hands round your throat and squeezing at the moment, _Granger_."

Oh great, empty threats from the ferret. That was really useful, and you know, conducive to removing her from the absolute nightmare that was this trap. She heard his laboured breathing however and started to wonder whether his threat was so empty after all. She decided to be quiet as she pondered, watching him trying to get his heart rate under control. She must unhinge him more than she thought, if this was what it took for him to resist strangling her to death.

He was finding it hard to concentrate. Not only did he hate being enclosed in confined spaces such as this, he hated that the fact that he _was_ scared seemed to show so easily. He really did not need Hermione knowing another of his weaknesses or his faults. He had revealed far too many over the years and now they were on different sides.

At any moment, anything he revealed to the other side, the losing side, could change the game. Strengthen them while weakening him. Then again, as his training in Occulumency had proven, everything needed to be guarded from everyone. Anything he revealed to the Dark Lord could be used against him personally as well.

The Dark Lord could see him fraternizing with Granger. Voldemort could delve into deeper memories which in Malfoy's mind, were just as vivid now as they were then. Once he had cracked the surface, Voldemort would easily sift through his altercations with this girl.

At that though he started panicking.

The effect of his claustrophobia made his mind volatile, on edge and very easily sent into overdrive. It was not controlled. His hysteria was screaming like a whistling kettle in his head and at any moment now it would all come to a boil.

He would scatter and the Dark Lord would have his mind.

He took deep breaths.

He couldn't tell whether it choked him while he was steadying his breathing or whether it soothed him, but his breathes slowly became deeper and inhaled the sweet scent of Hermione Granger. She was wearing perfume, probably something cheap but he didn't care. The fresh scent reminded him of her hair and the more earthy undertones were her skin and her lips and her eyes.

_Breathe in._

Why was she still fucking here? He needed to get away.

_Breath out._

He could feel her a couple of feet behind him. At least she was still stuck in this hellish ring with him. It's only fair.

_Breathe in._

She had stopped pacing. Maybe she had an answer. At least she was thinking straight, then he could get out and get away faster. A lot faster.

_Breathe out._

He supposed it was lucky that he had been trapped with her. The biggest swot in Hogwarts. Rather her than Pansy, who wouldn't have a clue what to do.

_Breathe in._

She smells nice too, like cherry wine. He couldn't complain about that. But she was taking her goddamn time with figuring this shitty little situation out.

_Breathe out._

At this rate he would be done. He'd have figured it out. Whoever the hell called this girl a genius sure overestimated her skills of deduction. A small voice in the back of his head reminded him that he was busy having a meltdown instead of helping, so that comment was redundant.

"Please, tell me you're close to an answer," he said. His voice had cracked on the please, but he then overcompensated, the rest of the sentence sounding harsh and blunt.

"I figured out the answer about a minute ago," he heard her whisper from the floor. He turned round and saw her seated as far across the circle from him as she could, leaning up against the wall. Her eyes were closed and her shoulders slumped.

_Oh no_.

"What – what's wrong?" he asked.

He pushed up against the field again, feeling a desperation come over him. If Granger couldn't figure this out then they were positively screwed.

"Granger, where is that brain everyone's always on about?"

He intended it to be a jibe, but it was slightly too soft, too hesitant. He ended up giving her a compliment, uncertain and unintentional.

Her eyes flicked up. Her expression softened when she saw he was being genuine.

"It's a somewhat simple charm. No layers or intricacy, just a lot of power focused into a spell. It creates a ring that repels like a magnet. We're currently sitting inside Circe's ring."

"How do we get out? Surely, if its that simple it should be easy to break."

Hermione raised her voice, as she hissed "Do you not think I've thought of that already?"

He seemed shocked that she had gone from civil to snapping at him in a matter of seconds. He took a step back as though she had slapped him, and slumped down the wall opposite her. He dropped his head into his hands and tried not to breathe too deep. He felt like he was being suffocated by her. He couldn't get it out of his head. He wanted to bury his head in her shoulder and just forget that he was trapped.

But it was temptation to do such a thing, and knowing he couldn't, that made him feel confined.

She sighed and muttered, "It's simple but powerful. The person who casts the spell chooses when it dissipates. It's probably set for about an hour, but only they, or someone proficient enough with magic on the outside of this circle, could undo the caster's spell work, unfortunately."

"So we have an hour?"

"Unless the caster is still around. They could easily increase the time. But seeing as I don't think this was their original plan, having us stuck in here together, I think they have probably left for tonight."

He growled thinking of the idiot who cast a spell in the middle of a hallway, knowing Prefects were probably still patrolling. Once he tracked the student down they would suffer hexes and endless detentions.

He mimicked her and tipped his head back against the wall, closing his eyes and hoping to catch some sleep.

After a while he felt his back cramping and freezing up against the hard stone wall and shifted position. After another five minutes he extended his legs, and a while after that he cracked his knuckles and turned to his side.

"Could you be quiet please?" Hermione snapped, not even bothering to open her eyes and look at him

"I could if I wasn't in pain from sitting here so long."

"It's only been fifteen minutes Malfoy," she ground out.

"You aren't being serious?" he groaned, resting his elbows on his knees as he began moving a hand through his hair.

Probably realising she would not get any sleep with Malfoy complaining, she sat up and opened her eyes. She glared at him as he acted oblivious to how much of a pain in the arse he was.

He looked up to find her shooting daggers at him. He didn't fucking care at this point. She was the one he had been trying to get away from. He wouldn't be surprised if she had set this all up herself just to torment him. But then he acknowledged, if she had, she could easily release them, and would probably be acting a little less uninterested in him.

It might have been childish but he wanted her to be bothering him.

At the end of last term she had been insistent on changing his mind about her. She was bothered that he thought she could do what she did and betray him so easily. He was certain it was real but despite not ever wanting to forgive her, he wanted her to beg for it. He took a sick sort of pleasure out of making her grovel for him.

Problem was, she never grovelled.

Hermione Granger argued. She even apologised from time to time. But this girl wouldn't grovel or beg. She'd rather walk away than beg anyone for anything.

He respected that, but couldn't bring himself to appreciate it quite so much when he just wanted to feel like she wanted him. He wanted to have that, just so that he could prove to himself that he could reject her if he wanted.

He hadn't been able to when she had tested his control before; on the bridge, in Hogsmeade, even in that empty classroom so long ago. The knowledge that if she really tried, she could break any resentment he felt towards her bothered him. It might get to a point where he wouldn't even resist if she tried to kiss him again. Being with her was intoxicating... that was what really frightened him.

To distract himself from his thoughts he looked up at her again. She had a little crease between her eyebrows as she thought. He would have thought it was cute, but he was too focused on what exactly she was thinking so hard about.

"Tell me you're thinking about a potential escape plan," Draco said in a tone which was scarily close to sounding genuine.

"I'm not," she said, and went back to her thoughts.

"That's not useful."

Draco gritted his teeth, but when he got no reaction from her he really began wondering what she was pondering in that huge brain of hers.

"What exactly are you trying to figure out Granger?" he asked, his curiosity outweighing the amount he didn't want to have a conversation with this girl. If it was this distracting, it was probably something he needed to know.

"I'm trying to figure out why the caster set it up here. Just seems a little random, don't you think?" she replied somewhat civilly. Draco reminded himself that was only because her mind was in another place. She didn't even put any energy into being rude to him this time.

"It's just a stupid prank."

"Yeah, I guess," she replied in a way that make Draco sense that it was anything but.

"What else could it be?" he demanded, in an exasperated tone.

"Doesn't matter. It was a stupid idea."

"Nothing that comes out of your mouth is ever stupid, Granger."

He winced as he watched her look up, and give him a small smile. He didn't mean it that way, the annoying bint.

"You can be deceitful, cruel, manipulative even. But never stupid," he added. Now that sounded more like him.

And there went the charming Malfoy she only ever saw for split seconds before he went and ruined it. It was a stupid way of trying to save face, and she knew that, but it still didn't make it any less mean.

"Someone has been following me all night while I've been on patrols. I haven't been able to catch them, but I've felt someone watching me. So I was just thinking this trap might have been intended just for me... or for me and them."

He watched her shudder and cross her arms over her chest. His stomach turned at the thought of someone trying to confine her here. What could have happened had he not been around? Who the hell had the nerve to do a thing like that, especially to Hermione Granger who would probably hex them before they even got close to her.

But... what if she hadn't been able to?

She felt threatened. Someone was watching her. That crossed a line.

He clenched up his cold fists, and looked over to her.

In his anger he had forgotten her. It was her who felt threatened by someone, and her who now was trapped with him. Someone she probably thought didn't care what happened to her.

He_ didn't_ care, he told himself.

But he wasn't going to leave a girl who looked as petrified as she did, to sit in the cold. She didn't have to sit in the trap that was intended for her alone.

"Tell anyone about this and you're dead. Now shove over, I don't want you crying on me," he said as he stood and crossed the circle and sat down next to her. He wouldn't wrap his arms around her, that would be too personal. So instead he reached over and took her hand in his. He squeezed her fingers and immediately felt her tense up.

"Are you going to stop treating me like shit?" she whispered, almost hopefully. She had intended to sound strong and harsh, but her head was pounding and she felt that horrible taughtness in her throat which told her she was close to tears. He continued to draw circles with his thumb on the back of her hand. Once she had taken a few deep breaths, she turned to him expectantly.

"No. I still cannot stand you," he said, making her flinch. "This is because you look so pathetic and I can't stand to have to see it for the next half an hour."

It was true.

She _knew_ it was true.

But the way he had tried to comfort her had made her hope, just a little, that she could have him back the way they were before.

Hot kisses and secrets and uncomplicated passion. Unfortunately once things got complicated it was very difficult to untangle them.

She picked her hand out from his and stared at him angrily.

"I don't want your hand for an hour, as some sort of feeble attempt at making yourself feel like a better person. If you can't give me comfort without insulting me and making me feel lesser, for something I _didn't do_ by the way, then you can sod off."

There was a deafening silence between them and then Malfoy shifted back over, to the opposite side.

"You did."

His reply was pathetic. He was immature.

But he couldn't let go of it. He held grudges. It was a stupid thing, to forgive. It got you hurt.

People didn't change, and if they did, those people were very rare. But despite being adamant that he was right, the school rumours were correct and that Hermione was lying, he wanted to argue with her. He didn't know whether he got a rush out of telling her she was wrong, or whether it was because he wanted her to argue right back and be right about it. Perhaps he wanted her to convince him, without a doubt that he had it all wrong all this time.

Maybe then they could go back to kissing in dark corners and forgetting everything else that was happening around them. That was all he needed from Granger. A release; somewhere he could put all his anger.

When they were younger it had been through arguments but, he thought to himself, as they were older it was only natural that that hatred transformed into frustration. It was because they hated each other most, that they had given into their frustrations long ago.

Knowing he was just as stubborn as her, Hermione had been watching him as he glared at her, daring her to argue back. But she wouldn't give him the satisfaction.

If he wanted to believe her, she had given him the truth.

He had to get over himself and admit it. She was done with him messing her around and thinking he could make her beg for something that was never coming.

"Argument for the sake of argument is worthless, Malfoy," she drawled lazily.

It was almost like she had slapped him.

He suddenly knew she was telling the truth. It was the exasperation in her voice that gave her away. She had spoken the truth so many times that she was bored of arguing that it was real. She knew; she didn't have to argue anymore.

He had to test her though. It wasn't in his nature to trust.

"You're not even going to try to argue?"

"Do you really want me to? Do you want to be convinced or do you just want to feel special enough for me to bother with?" she said condescendingly.

He hesitated and then murmured quietly, so quietly she almost didn't hear.

"I want you to convince me."

Hermione's eyes snapped up, and her heart leapt into her throat. She knew it was a long shot but this time felt ...different. Like he wanted her to help him believe it.

She shuffled across the ring and closer to Draco, kneeling and sitting on the backs of her legs as she looked across at him. She looked so sweet and open like that, it made him want to grab her hips and pull her onto him. But he didn't. This was important.

"Malfoy," she said at first. That felt wrong in her mouth however, so she continued softly, "Draco." He looked up at her then and held her gaze.

"I don't know if you remember this, but you were my first kiss. In second year, and I still remember that. I never had that with Ron. The only time I ever kissed him – look at me Draco-" she lifted his chin again, forcing him to watch her as she said, "The only time I ever kissed him was when dared. I kissed you because I liked it."

Where any other guy would have blushed, Draco squirmed. It was a little too close to getting personal, for the both of them, so Hermione continued.

"Ron and I would have been a public affair. I liked the fact I could just grab you and it would be between us. I like the fact I hate you so much that I don't care about whether it's bad. I just - I just don't care."

He finally understood. He understood what they had and what she wanted. He understood that he had completely misunderstood what she wanted before. He thought Granger of all people would be the type to want the grand romance, the public kind. But all along she had just wanted to feel something, and not be harrassed by the rest of the school about it. She knew he wouldn't want to tell anyone, that's why she wanted him in the first place. And he could make her feel those things, the pull in the bottom of her abdomen and the bruising kind of pressure on her lips.

She wanted what he wanted. So what was the harm?

Then she leaned in and pressed her soft lips to his. He had been leaning back against the wall, but leant up, moving against her, demanding more pressure. He moved his hands into her hair and tasted the sweetness on her lips, and in that moment he found it in him to forgive her.

* * *

He had kissed Hermione for seconds, minutes, hours… He didn't know.

He was so wrapped up in her touch that he lost all hold on time. She had shifted to sit down, her hips next to his, just touching. Her hand was clasped around the back of his neck, pulling at him to give her more.

He tried to take a breath, forget everything. She was arching her body towards him, and he felt her small shudders in response to his He had tried to wash her away and she just wouldn't leave, and he now found his lips begging her to keep on haunting his thoughts. She was in his veins, and he couldn't even bring himself to stop her infecting him further.

At first he had kissed her back lightly, tentatively, and she had taken that as a small victory. She had taken everything he was giving to her because she didn't know when he would blow up at her again. He blew so hot and cold with her that she never knew when he would leave. So she found herself scrambling closer to him, littering kisses softly along his jawline so as not to frighten him away.

But as time went on she found that he was in her space, and he wasn't letting her go. His hands were all over her and he pressed insistently at her mouth, asking for as much as she could give.

So she gave it.

She moved her hands up from his chest and under his collar. She loosened his tie a little and then wound her hands around the back of his neck, all the while teasing his lips with hers, brushing gently across them. She felt her mouth against his again and ran her tongue along his lips. He opened his mouth in response, allowing her to move her tongue against his.

His hands were feverish: in her hair, on her body, pulling her down so that she was under him on the cold floor of the corridor. A hand slid round her back, as he dipped his head back down to her. He remembered thinking this was wrong. To do this in the middle of a corridor, where they could be caught was worse. But he couldn't help his hands as they grabbed for her hips and moved up to the sides of her waist. Feeling the heat of her skin through her shirt, he swallowed, and tried not to think too much about what he would find underneath it.

He began applying kisses to her neck, his tongue flicking against her skin in a way that had her breathless.

She pulled away and found that her heart was thudding as she looked into his eyes.

"Draco…"

_What are we doing? What is this?_ a small part of her brain was asking, but the rest of her mind was screaming at it to shut up. All she wanted was for Draco to keep touching her, and kissing her. She wanted him to hold her and know that he was here, with her, and that he wouldn't leave her. Not like before.

Sitting there in the dark corridor, Draco had felt the kiss become fierce instead of languorous. She was staring at him, her eyes nearly black and her lips parted. Breathing hard, she was trying to hold herself together as much as he was.

But now, looking at her, he hesitated. Even with the flush in her cheeks, her swollen lips and dishevelled hair, she seemed innocent. Even looking into her darkened eyes; heavy lidded with desire, he couldn't bring himself to take that from her. She was good. She had morals and did not need to be singled out as a target if anyone ever found out about this. The one thing he had forgotten through all of this was that they were on different sides. She was good and he was bad. There was a line drawn between them, and no matter how hard they tried to find the end of it, neither of them could step over it.

He scrambled back away from her and stood up, looking at his hands as though they had just touched something and poisoned it.

Still on the floor, she looked up at him as if to say _not this again_.

"This can't change anything Hermione. It can't change anything for us and you know it," he said quietly.

_Why was this still happening to her?_ Just when she thought she'd got it right with him, he hated her again or rejected her or ran away. How many times could he do this before she realised he was no good?

"You forgave me," she replied. "You aren't going to take that back now are you?"

"No that's not-" he sighed. "Hermione we're from different worlds. This would be going nowhere."

She replied with a bitter laugh, "I'm really not thinking about a future with you, so there's nothing to worry about there."

"You wouldn't be thinking about an anything with me if you knew the truth, Granger," he muttered under his breath, but a little too loudly for her to miss.

She stood up slowly, and suddenly she seemed ten times more intimidating. He could feel the magic around her crackling, and he saw her fist clench and unclench by her side.

"And what, might I ask, is the truth, Malfoy?"

She was expecting him to insult her. To reject her for the umpteenth time. To tell her she was too ugly or her blood was too foul. She was sure she was about to punch him for calling her an insufferable know it all or a swot when she gasped.

He had rolled up his sleeve to show her the Dark Mark, etched into the skin of his forearm. He looked down at the ugly black tattoo against his skin and felt his stomach turn. It was revolting. He was stuck with this grotesque mark on his arm which was still a violent red around the edges, despite having received it months ago.

He heard a choking sound and looked back over to see Hermione looking at him. He expected her to look at him in horror, maybe even with a look of hatred. That's what he expected.

But when he really looked at her, she seemed sad. He only found empathy in her eyes where there should have been loathing. Tears spilled down her cheeks as her hands covered her mouth which he was sure was still hanging open in shock.

If he was uncertain before, this just proved that he could not corrupt her. Draco usually wouldn't care and would take from her selfishly until she felt all used up and left. He could easily do that to Granger, but although he didn't care for her that much, he didn't feel right making all that effort to hide what he had with a muggleborn witch.

He couldn't associate with her when this mark was everything she was against. They would be fighting each other in two years, once they were out of Hogwarts. He couldn't stand by and pretend that he was changing, when it was clear as day that he wasn't. It was written in black and white on his arm that he couldn't escape the reality of blood purity.

At first when she saw the dark mark, she didn't know what to think. Then she felt the full spectrum of '_I could punch him so hard right now_' to fear to hate to sadness right through to what she was stuck at now: sympathy.

She kept looking at the mark as though it wasn't really there, as though this was all a bad dream and it would disappear when she woke up.

She had taken a book out of the restricted section of the library over summer on the 'Knights of Walpurgis'. Many people had attempted to write about the early Death Eaters following the war, but found themselves relaying morality lessons rather than actual fact. Hermione wanted to know how they fought, how Voldemort had communicated with them, any information she could get her hands on that she might find useful in the future after their lack of success against the Death Eaters in the Department of Mysteries last year.

She had found a book in the restricted section which told of all of the monstrosities the Knights committed, not withholding any details. She had needed to know what she would be up against, and in this book was a whole chapter on those marks.

The process was excruciatingly painful, ensuring that only the loyal or the desperate would ever go through such a ritual. Flicking her eyes back up to Draco's cool grey ones, he looked pained to even acknowledge what he had done. Or rather, what had been done to him. For someone who was so loyal to Voldemort's cause, he didn't seem too happy about it. She guessed desperation was the more likely option in Draco's case and it felt like a sharp blow to her chest.

She remembered a passage on the skins reaction to the mark very clearly now that she was looking at the vivid red and black on the pale white skin of Draco's arm:

"When the mark was being applied, he ensured that the receiver suffered the utmost pain during his or her branding. Following research, many people who stated that they were under the Imperius Curse when they became a Death Eater have been able to recall this ritual because of the vivid pain they experienced. It has been reported that after a day of vivid red swelling, the raised skin should become less irritated and fade, leaving the black outline of a skull and a snake on the lower forearm."

Seeing as they had been at school two weeks, she knew that Draco had not received the Dark Mark within the past day, or even within the past fortnight. This left only one option, also discussed by the text:

"In the case of some who received the Dark Mark, their skin reacted violently towards the tattoo. It is unknown whether it is because of the rejection of the Dark Magic by the skin, or because of their opposition to the Dark Mark that this occurred, but most experts agree on the latter conclusion. This is because most wizards and witches who reported experiencing this were not simply opposed to receiving the Dark Mark, but also opposed to blood purity politics."

She couldn't say for sure whether this was true in Draco's case. She wouldn't ever be able to say that with any certainty.

But she could at least take comfort from the fact he was still rejecting the mark. He might not oppose it, but the swelling showed he was unwilling to have it put on his body. Even if this might not be true, it was definite that his body, even if not his mind, still intrinsically rejected the darker forms of magic. He was not cut out to be a Death Eater.

Before she could say anything else though, he reached to his left and found the barrier of Circe's Ring had dissipated. He guessed it had probably been gone a while now. He looked down into her deep brown eyes and felt something twang in his chest. He felt like he shouldn't do this to her again, just kiss her and leave.

But he couldn't stay.

Not like this.

"I will hurt you if you ever talk to me again," Draco murmured, his voice cracking at the end of his sentence. His jaw clenched as he tried not to look at her, but he couldn't feel anything but regret when he saw her shoulders sag and her head shake in disgust.

Trying to get back what they had both lost, he knew he couldn't leave her feeling sorry for him. Just before walking into the black of the corridor, he knew he had to say something to make her hate him again. To make this easier.

He couldn't look her in the eye as he choked on his old hateful comment, unable to say it with anything more than remorse for hurting her again.

"Filthy little mudblood."

* * *

**This kind of hurt to write, please tell me what it was like to read? Fave, review and follow!**


	13. The Library

**Was reminded I hadn't edited the most recent chapter and posted it, after a lovely review reminded me I am trash for neglecting this story. I tend to have large breaks between posting and for that I apologise. Hope you enjoy this. Please don't forget to follow, fave and review!**

* * *

"Draco Malfoy, he's… well, he's got the – he's a Death Eater."

As she finally spat out the confession she looked up and was met with a pair of filmy blue eyes which were crinkled at the edges; Dumbledore gave her a knowing smile. She had been pacing back and forth in his office ever since she entered, working up a nervous sweat as the fireplace crackled. She had been trying to convince herself to spit it out or run away. Just to do _something_. She took a deep breath as, after two weeks of back and forth deliberating, she finally felt the constant suffocating pressure of the secret leave her head.

Ironically, she still had a pounding headache over what would happen now.

She had decided to tell Dumbledore because of the risk Draco now posed to the rest of the school, being a Death Eater and likely sent to complete some sort of task. On the other hand she also really didn't want to see Malfoy expelled. It would mean he would be stuck in a life of Dark Magic whereas if he was kept in school, within the safety of Hogwarts' walls things could change for him. He could be sheltered from that life of cruelty and pain. That's what she was hoping. However she had to face the fact she would probably, with her confession, be sending him home rather than saving him.

"Is that so?" Dumbledore said, shaking his head softly.

"I – well, yes sir?"

"Harry has made many allegations over the past years, I never thought you would succumb to the idea," his piercing eyes holding her gaze across the desk. She faltered and even doubted herself despite the fact she had _seen_ it. She _knew_ it was there.

"I know it's there, he showed me it himself," finding herself suddenly indignant.

_Why wasn't he taking her seriously?_

Her brows knit together and she folded her arms across her chest. He sat back in his seat calmly.

He seemed satisfied.

And she felt like she had just fallen into a trap and revealed something stupid. How exactly she didn't know, but the twinkle in his eye told her that he knew more than he let on.

"With your history, that's a rather strange occurrence. Such an important secret. Why would he tell you, Miss Granger?"

A raised eyebrow. A quirk of the lips. Their secret was out.

_Bollocks_.

"We have been… cooperating, for the past few months. I think we just got tired of how it was before," she admitted, trying to push away the memories of his hands _cooperating_ with her hips, and her mouth _cooperating_ with his lips.

A blush rose on her cheeks at the thought and she found she couldn't look Dumbledore in the eye. She was acting like a hormonal teenager for Merlin's sake.

"So there has been a change of character in Mr Malfoy?"

"I wouldn't go that far. A change in belief maybe, even that I'm not sure about. He's still largely the same as before around everyone."

Dumbledore smiled at her honesty.

"Since he showed you the mark, did he change back?"

"No he was still –," she interrupted her own thoughts. "-But, he has the Mark. It changes everything."

"Does it?" The Headmaster looked at her doubtfully.

"Well …no - I don't know? But he could be a risk to the school. He could…" she trailed off thinking how barmy she sounded. With his change in character, and the fact that it was impossible to do anything in school without Dumbledore knowing about it eventually, when exactly would Draco do Voldemort's bidding.

"He's probably more of a risk to himself right now. I should justify my allowance of him staying on school grounds with the reasoning of keeping a close eye on him, but I would really prefer him be here. The kind of life he would lead if he left Hogwarts is not enviable."

He shook his head as he placed his palm over his chest. "I must keep him here."

Dumbledore sat in his chair for five minutes, not saying anything, only thinking.

"I agree," Hermione finally concurred, trying to break the silence and remind him that she was still here and needed to go and complete her Arithmecy homework sometime soon.

He nodded and she took this as a cue to leave, pushing herself up in her chair and hearing it move noisily over the stone floor. She almost escaped in the hopes of completing her work but Dumbledore stopped her.

"I would actually like to ask you a few questions following this new information. Please forgive me, I often lose track of reality when delving into my mind." He shook his head as though reprimanding himself for being impolite, and gestured towards the seat in front of his desk again. "If you would oblige me," Dumbledore continued, and she slumped back down almost stroppily.

"I know last year you played a crucial role in setting up 'Dumbledore's Army'. I quite enjoyed watching that progress so well," she felt a swell of pride in her chest, and sat up in her seat again. Brushing a ringlet behind her ear she looked intently at Dumbledore, keen to hear what he was going to say. "There seems to be no continuance of it this year, and I agree with this because we have a most competent Dark Arts teacher in Snape-"

At this he saw he crinkle her nose in an involuntary show of disgust, and so he moved on.

"I hope you would agree that this year there seems to be a greater need for it for Mr Malfoy, if you can get him to agree to lessons."

"Sorry professor, but Malfoy's pride wouldn't withstand a blow like that."

"Then perhaps not lessons. Sessions where he passes information, where you learn about his mission and he helps the Order. Do you think that's viable?"

"No sir."

She felt suddenly cold and her throat constricted at the thought of him resigning himself to calling her a Mudblood again. He had come so far only to throw it all away again. She didn't know, even if he didn't believe all that crap, whether he would commit to their side. It didn't seem much like him at all. It would take something big to cause such a drastic change, and Hermione wasn't disillusioned enough to believe that that thing could be her.

She was a strong believer in the fact that while the strongest bonds of love might influence a person to act differently, it would take a huge jolt for them to change at the core.

She wasn't sure she could provide the romantic influence or the shock factor to slap him out of his stupidity. And this time she wasn't prepared to be the one to put themselves out there again.

"Very well then, Miss Granger," Dumbledore sighed. "But if anything changes, please let me know. Come directly to my office."

Hermione nodded and then scrambled to grab her bag and get out of the Headmasters office.

She had a lot of thinking to do.

* * *

"Honestly though, what does it bloody matter when the Great Troll War was?" moaned Ron.

"It really was fascinating you know, it took four years just to-" she paused, seeing the withering glance Harry and Ron were giving her from across the table. "To pass your exams, Ronald," she corrected, rolling her eyes and sighing at her friends' lack of interest in a topic that was actually really interesting.

She had finished her History of Magic essay a couple of days ago. While the other two Gryffindors sat in the library completing (or at least attempting to complete) the work on the night before it was due, she was working on her Defence against the Dark Arts homework from todays lesson.

She would have completed it far more efficiently in the Gryffindor Common Room, but as she watched her two friends across the table she realised how much she missed being around them.

They had all seemed so distant recently.

With Harry slowly becoming obsessed with that Prince's old textbook and Ron finding himself trapped in a relationship with Lavender, Hermione had found they had made little time for her this term.

She felt worse thought when she realised that she had only really noticed this in the past week or so. She had been so obsessed with telling Dumbledore about Malfoy, thinking about him and what he knew and why he was here that she had been caught up in her own world so far this term.

Could she get him to talk to Dumbledore and see sense?

Unlikely.

She had concluded she shouldn't even try. Firstly because of the high probability that he would reject her offer and it would be a waste of her time. And secondly, because she was not planning on being the one to offer the olive branch again. She wasn't going to go back to him, if he wanted to apologise to her he could. Apart from that, she had too much pride for her to give in now.

Her main focus now was Harry. Getting him to talk to her and Ron. She probably should also focus on Ron, but he was handling things badly in the romance department and it miffed her. Lavender's unrequited feelings in her relationship with Ron reminded her of what she had with Draco, and the situation was a little too close to home for her to not get incredibly moody whenever Lavender was mentioned.

So when Ron opened his mouth and mumbled another curse about having to see Brown later, she furrowed her eyebrows and glared at him. _Idiot._

"I have to go and check out a book," she said abruptly, pushed back her chair noisily and marched off to the opposite end of the library.

* * *

Draco paced into the library, walked over to the nearest table and dropped his bag loudly. Other students looked up at him irritatedly, but he glared to make it clear he couldn't care less. He had a pounding headache, had not eaten all day and had to keep up with work to keep up the impression that he was here to complete his sixth year and not, you know, to do the bidding of the Dark Lord.

He usually hated the library. There were too many people here. There was nowhere to hide, which is all he seemed to be doing recently. Massaging a hand on the back of his neck as he went, he walked swiftly down the rows of bookshelves, his shoes tapping the hard wood floor as he stepped. He turned to walk along one of the shelves and cursed to Merlin and all four founders of Hogwarts when he saw a frizzy ball of hair in the same section he needed to be.

A frizzy ball of hair which belonged to none other than the last person he wanted to see right now.

She was facing the books and biting her lower lip, a look of concentration on her face as she scanned the shelves in front of her. She didn't seem to notice anyone around her, so he moved quietly towards the section of the bookshelves which he needed. As he moved along he realised that she was standing directly in front of said section. He was fortunate enough that she still hadn't noticed him, so he began scanning the spines of books in a frenzy, trying to grab the book and run.

Hermione meanwhile ran her fingers over the books, tapping each one while studying their titles. She traced her way up the shelves and then leaned her head back to check on the higher shelves where she seemed to have set her eyes on a leather-bound manuscript. Draco followed her line of sight and read 'Defensive Spellwork: History, Theory, Practice', the exact book he needed to complete his essay. _Of course_ she had thought, same as he, that it would be best to collect it from the library a week in advance.

This was unfortunate and completely avoidable. He would have to wait until she was done with it. It went against every fibre of his being not to take it first and then argue with her second, but he didn't want to cause either of them more trouble. Avoiding was easier so he started to turn back in order to return to his seat.

But then he glimpsed her stretching towards it on the top shelf and he had to stop himself from groaning, instead taking in a sharp breath. Her skirt, which she usually hid beneath a swamp of black robes, had risen as she reached up. Draco had got a glimpse of her lace underwear which hugged her bottom and was gritting his teeth to try and control himself. Leaning back on the table he stuffed his hands in his pockets, resisting the urge to run his fingers up her thigh and under her skirt.

Even on tiptoes Granger hadn't quite been able to reach it, and he saw a slight irritated shake of her head before she took out her wand to levitate it down. The shortest distance between them was a line which his eyes followed, from where he was standing straight to her.

She raised her wand and muttered "Wingardium Leviosa," and went to leave the bookshelves with the book he needed in her hands.

Seeing him there she froze, a hot blush creeping up her cheeks. The fact he held her gaze caused her breath to hitch in her throat and she forced herself to hide her surprise. Draco felt an itch to reach out and fiddle with the hem of her skirt with his fingers. Instead he shoved his hands deeper into his pockets willing them not to misbehave.

_Move_, Hermione heard a voice in her head say firmly, and the moment was broken. She was a little unsteady on her feet but looked at the floor as she brushed past Draco and tucked a curl behind her ear nervously.

She despised how he hadn't thought about the consequences for her; she would be left in the cold every time she saw him. He was just a reminder of how much she enjoyed the torturous energy between the two of them, and just how wrong that was.

He growled but watched her go. He didn't want to cause a scene in the library and especially not a scene involving him and Granger of all people.

He cocked his head back up to the shelf where there was now a hole where _his _textbook used to be. He decided he might as well get something on the topic rather than giving up on it all together, so he picked an old looking book bound in dark green leather and gave it a leaf through to see if something, anything, was relevant. It was titled 'The Darke Artes of Olde'; he almost laughed at the somewhat melodramatic misspelling and opened the book at a random page, nearer the front of the manuscript.

There he saw scribblings and tall italic handwriting in the margins of the text with phrases like 'Dark Lord requested attendance to November meeting' and 'Knights meeting in RR'. The mere mention of the Dark Lord made Draco shudder. He felt cold and clammy in an instant, his school shirt sticking to his back as he shivered in the library. Turning his head, he looked around to see if anyone was aware of his sudden change in demeanour.

Was he not the only student who had the Dark Mark?

No, surely not.

He didn't know anyone else whose families were loyal enough to the cause, or careless enough to get their sons and daughters involved when the Dark Lord was still lacking the support he needed for a war. He didn't know anyone else whose fathers had been ruined so monumentally by Potter last year in the Ministry of Magic, because that's why he was on this mission after all.

There was no way that he would have trusted another student. Even if he did, there was no way he would have entrusted a student stupid enough to write threats and spells and the Dark Lord's name all over this book, and then place it back in the library. He almost couldn't believe this was real. Draco marched back to his seat, grabbed his bag as he continued out of the library. He swung it over his shoulder and hurriedly shoved the book in there. He had to find out who this book belonged to and he had to destroy it… and maybe in the process obliviate the moron who might have blown his cover.

Hermione looked up to see Draco leaving. The sound of his footsteps were weighing heavy on her as they faded; he moved out of the library and down the adjacent corridor leaving her to work in the tense silence of the library.

* * *

"What you looking at there?"

"_Fuck_," Draco jolted. "Myrtle, you need to _not_ do that."

He was sitting in a cubicle in the girl's bathroom with the book open on his lap. He had not been able to wait until he got to the Slytherin Common Room, knowing he would have to stash it instead of immediately reading it in his dormitory.

He looked up at the ghost who was hanging over the wall of the cubicle, her pale chin resting on her fist and staring down at him. _This girl needs to get a grip_, he thought, as Myrtle seemed to begin to tear up.

"You could just… you know, say hello without making me almost have a heart attack," he smiled charmingly. He needed to shut her up before the wailing even began; at this point in time he needed to have clear rational thoughts. It was somewhat forced but she didn't seem to notice and floated down into his space.

"Oh of course, Draco," she said sidling up beside him. "Aren't you going to tell me what's in that book of yours?" she giggled in a shrill tone which she probably thought was flirtatious, looking over his shoulder at the textbook.

Trying not to grimace at the grating personality of the Ravenclaw ghost he closed the book, gesturing to it in one hand. "Nothing for your eyes," Draco admitted, "but it is a pretty interesting read."

Myrtle watched as the Slytherin furrowed his brow and was hooked onto a line of thoughts about this mysterious book. She didn't trust books, or diarys. She rather hoped he was not going to do something stupid because of it. The sound of running taps could be heard at the other end of the room, as well as the shrieks of a group of first years running down the corridor outside. Every inch of his body was taut, and there for her to trace. He was usually a blank page; unreadable, but he seemed to be falling apart and leaving secrets on display. Apart from that Malfoy sat in silence and Myrtle floated to be standing in front of the toilet on which he was sitting. He closed his eyes and leant his elbows on his knees, dropping his head into his hands as he tried to work out what it all meant.

The beginning of the book started off with statements in the margins such as "useful to Lord" and "alter to make more potent effect", but further in the book it got a whole lot more confusing for him. Malfoy realised this was a book that had been in Hogwarts a while, which wasn't indexed as a library book. It was just left on the shelves but he would assume that was why it had been left undisturbed for so long. The graffiti spoke about the original Knights of Walpurgis; so Malfoy figured that this was a student from the first rise of the Dark Lord. The notes got more frantic, less set on following the Dark Lord and more on analysing his power. This seemed normal for a couple of pages, Draco assuming that this was merely a pureblood fanatic. Suddenly, the pages changed and the notes seemed to be focused more on the defeat. One page the white space was totally filled with desperate realisations; "He was wrong," "S was right, I have been so stupid," and a single word, "horcruxes" was underlined three times.

He didn't know what the hell a horcrux was but it didn't seem pleasant. Draco had sat there staring at the pages, flicking through for half an hour seeing the student go from a Voldemort obsessed lunatic, to a scared follower who realised he was stuck and finally, a rebel secretly plotting to work against the very leader who had probably killed him for these thoughts. One passage stuck with him more than any other.

'After all these years following him in secret, actually joining the Knights has made me realise what a painful mistake this is. Not just for me, but for everyone. Mudbloods, purebloods, everyone.'

'He's a maniac and he'll end up a tyrant. I can't do this. I've never been more scared in my life. My only choice is to obey him, to cover myself. But he will lose, and I'll be on the winning side. Somehow.'

Draco suddenly realised how paper thin his resolution was and how little he had really committed to the Dark Lord. He… he didn't know if this had changed his opinion on blood purity. He still felt that magic was stronger when it was kept away from muggles. If it presented itself in a mudblood, that didn't mean they necessarily belonged in his world. There were a few very powerful exceptions, Hermione being one of them but on the whole they were weakening magical blood and he would never bring them into his world voluntarily.

He didn't honestly know.

What he did know is that he didn't have the stomach for mass extermination of a whole race. That had to be wrong?

The rest of the scribblings were documenting attacks on muggles, the various tasks Voldemort had set him and how he executed them, and then paragraphs following each incident with lines and lines of moral confusion and lessons learnt by the boy. Malfoy had read them, page after page and found frighteningly that he was more like this boy than he knew. He had the same views more or less… and he was in exactly the same position.

He had turned to the back cover and found the initials of the previous owner scribed there in black ink.

'Property of R.A.B.'

_Who in the name of Salazar Slytherin himself was R.A.B? _

Draco pinched the bridge of his nose and breathed deep, trying not to scream. He had no idea, and there's no one he could ask. If he asked the school he would attract unwanted attention, and if he asked his family he might incriminate someone working in the ranks of the Death Eaters for working against Voldemort. He didn't think he could do that, after all he had read. After all he had just had confirmed.

"Ehem," Myrtle cleared her throat and his eyes suddenly shot up to meet hers again.

"It's difficult to focus with your noise, you know," he said quietly, rubbing his temples.

Myrtle looked affronted at first, then forgot this a second later, smiling pathetically because at least he hadn't left yet.

"I completely understand you Draco, completely," the ghost said dreamily, spinning slowly and pulling at strands of her hair as she turned.

"I'm going now," Malfoy stood up and went to leave, suddenly intent on moving or doing something about the information he had just been given. The diary seemed like an inevitable conclusion now, as though at some point in the future he would have the same realisation and perhaps the same fate as the author. His life seemed to have sped up, him having reached an understanding far sooner than he might have without the pages of this book.

His life had only got darker since Voldemort had returned, he was miserable because he was supporting this man no matter how much Malfoy agreed or disagreed with blood purity politics. This book helped him on his way to find the better days; he could go back to being free.

The thought that he might never have jarred himself into action and adamantly ignored that he was on the wrong side. The Order and everything that went with it was stronger. They operated wanting to do right, that would never die out no matter how powerful Voldemort became. The Dark Lord would rule as a minority, on fear. The odds of Voldemort surviving to set up a stable government were low, and no matter how much control he had, the resistance would always live. Knowing what he did, Draco had been given a second chance, he could prepare himself better for the fall and maybe even save himself from the sinking ship that was the Death eaters. They only seemed to be building strength but he knew that they couldn't win, somehow R.A.B had spoken about the defeat of Voldemort as something so real and achievable that now it was in Malfoy's mind.

Myrtle frowned but as he walked out of the cubicles he gave her a confused smile using all the energy he could muster. He couldn't have her mumbling to students about Malfoy hiding in _her_ cubicle and looking distressed; it would raise some questions he would really rather not answer.

Walking back to the Slytherin Common Room he gritted his teeth and decided that like R.A.B he was going to be on the winning side, but unlike the boy, he would do something about it before it was too late.

* * *

A scream came from the other girls in the dormitory when that evening a beautiful black owl flew through the open window and landed on Hermione's bed.

She grabbed a note off of the birds leg and it flew out before she could even feed it a treat. Unfolding the parchment tenuously, she tried to hold herself together in front of the others as she read the familiar handwriting.

"Room of Requirement. 9pm."

Then scribbled below, as an afterthought, but written there nonetheless…

"Please."

* * *

**Okay I feel that this chapter needs a couple little comments on the end: **

**\- This was difficult to write because I like writing crappy Draco and therefore am reluctant to give him morals. Not that there has been drastic changes in that area but still, exciting? **

**\- I'm trying to make this story fit with the book series as much as possible and will continue like this; largely it could have happened in canon with a few small exceptions. **

**\- I have the plot planned all the way to the end, I just haven't written it. So you can rest assured that this will be finished as there is no confusion on where I'm going with this fic. But it's going to be long, and despite comments that it might be drawn out, I want to do it properly and not rush it.**

**\- I assume you recognise the initials R.A.B? Another thing I had to include, and that kind of (really) hurt writing.**

**Please tell me what it was like to read? Fave, follow and review!**


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